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I LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. I 



A WOMAN'S WAY THROUGH 
UNKNOWN LABRADOR 





THK AITHOH 

{J'roin till' druiriity hij J. Syddall) 



A WOMAN'S WAY THROUGH 
UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

AN ACCOUNT OF THE EXPLORATION OF THE 
NASCAUPEE AND GEORGE RIVERS 

BY 
MRS. LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JUNIOR 




WITH PORTRAITS AND ILLUSTRATIONS 



NEW YORK 

THE MCCLURE COMPANY 

MCMVIII 



Copyright, 1908, hy The McClure Company 



Published, October, 1908 



L|i;f:ro-i ,f CONGRESS 

Ste 22 »9U8 

COP^ A. 






TO 

ELLEN VAN DER YOORT HUBBARD 

HIS MOTHER, WHOM HE LOVED 

AND 

LEONIDAS HUBBARD 

HIS FATHER, WHO WAS ONE OF 

HIS HEROES 



PREFACE 

This book is the result of a determination on my part to 
complete Mr. Hubbard's unfinished work, and having done 
this to set before the public a plain statement, not only of 
my own journey, but of his as well. For this reason I have 
included the greater part of Mr. Hubbard's diary, which 
he kept during the trip, and which it will be seen is pub- 
lished exactly as he wrote it, and also George Elson's ac- 
count of the last few days together, and his own subsequent 
efforts. 

I hope that this may go some way towards correcting 
misleading accounts of Mr. Hubbard's expedition, which 
have appeared elsewhere. It is due also to the memory of 
my husband that I should here put on record the fact that 
my journey with its results — geographical and otherwise 
— is the only one over this region recognised by the 
geographical authorities of America and Europe. 

The map which is found accompanying this account of 
the two journeys sets forth the work I was able to accom- 
plish. It does not claim to be other than purely pioneer 



PREFACE 
work. I took no observations for longitude, but obtained 
a few for latitude, which served as guiding points in mak- 
ing my map. The controlling points of my journey were 
already astronomically fixed.^ 

The route map of the first Hubbard Expedition is from 
one drawn for me by George Elson, with the few observa- 
tions for latitude recorded by Mr. Hubbard in his diary 
as guiding points. Mj husband's maps, together with 
other field notes and records, I have not had access to, as 
these have never been handed over to me. 

Grateful acknowledgment is here made of my indebted- 
ness to Mr. Herbert L. Bridgman and Mr. Harold T. 
Ellis for their help and counsel in my work. 

Here, too, I would express my sincere appreciation of 
the contribution to the book from ]\Ir. Cabot, who, de- 
scendent of the ancient explorers, is peculiarly well fitted 
to speak of Labrador. The great peninsula has been, as he 
terms it, his " playground," and by canoe in summer or on 
snow-shoes in winter he has travelled thousands of miles in 
the interior, thus placing himself in closest touch with it. 

To Dr. Cluny Macpherson for his generous service I am 
deeply grateful. 

To George Elson for his loyal devotion to Mr. Hub- 

1 Northwest River post, Lake Michikamau and its outlet, and the 
mouth of the George River. 



PREFACE 

bard and myself my debt of gratitude must ever remain 
unpaid. 

To Dr. James E. C. Sawyer, my beloved pastor, I am 
indebted for the title of my book. 

MINA BENSON HUBBARD 



CONTENTS 

CHAP. PAGE 

I. LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 3 

n. SLIPPING AWAY INTO THE WILDERNESS 19 

III. CLIMBING THE RAPIDS 31 

IV. DISASTER WHICH THREATENED DEFEAT 38 
V. TO THE BEND OF THE RIVER 51 

VI. CROSS COUNTRY TO SEAL LAKE WATERS 65 

VII. OFF FOR MICHIKAMAU 7*7 

VIH. SCARING THE GUIDES 88 

IX. MOUNT HUBBARD AND WINDBOUND LAKE 101 

X. MICHIKAMAU 108 

XI. STORM-BOUND ON MICHIKAMATS 117 

XH. THE MIGRATING CARIBOU 126 

XIII. ACROSS THE DIVIDE 139 

XIV. THROUGH THE LAKES OF THE UPPER GEORGE 145 
XV. THE MONTAGNAIS INDIANS 155 

XVI. THE BARREN GROUND PEOPLE 167 

XVH. THE RACE FOR UNGAVA 182 

XVni. THE RECKONING 200 

DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 205 

NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 255 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

The Author Frontispiece 

FACING 
PAGE 

Leonidas Hubbard, Jr. 8 

Where Romance Lingers 16 

Deep Ancient Valleys 16 

George Elson 22 

Job 22 

Gilbert ' 26 

On Into the Wilderaess 26 

The Fierce Nascaupee 28 * 

The White Man's Burden 28 

Making Canoe Poles 84- 

Job Was in His Element 34 

Coming Down the Trail with Packs 40 

Washing-Day ' 40 

On the Trail 62.. 

In the Heart of the Wilderness ^2 

Solitude (Seal Lake) 74 

Joe 74 

Skinning the Caribou 82 ^ 

The Fall 82 

Wild Maid Marion 102 

Gertrude Falls 102 

Breakfast on Michikamau 110 * 

Stormbound 110 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



FACING 
PAGE 



From an Indian Grave 128 / 

A Bit of the Caribou Country 128 

The Indians' Cache 148 

Bridgman Mountains 148 

The Camp on the Hill 158 

A Montagnais Type ^ 158 

The Montagnais Boy 162-^ 

Nascaupees in Skin Dress 162 

Indian Women and Their Home 172 ^ 

With the Nascaupee Women 172 

The Nascaupee Chief and Men 176 

Nascaupee Little Folk 176 

A North Country Mother and Her Little Ones 178 

Shooting the Rapids 178 

The Arrival at Ungava 206 

A Bit of the Coast 206 

A Rainy Camp 212^ 

Working Up Shallow Water 212 

Drying Caribou Meat and Mixing Bannocks 220 ^ 

Great Michikamau 220 

Carrying the Canoe Up the Hill on the Portage 242 

Launching 242 

In the Nascaupee Valley 252 

A Rough Country 252 

The French Post at Northwest River 290 - 

Hudson's Bay Company Post as Northwest River 290 

Night-Gloom Gathers 302 
Map of Eastern Labrador showing Route 



A WOMAN'S WAY THROUGH 
UNKNOWN LABRADOR 



CHAPTER I 
LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 

There was an unusual excitement and interest in Mr. Hub- 
bard's face when he came home one evening in January of 
1903. 

We had just seated ourselves at the dinner-table, when 
leaning forward he handed me a letter to read. It contained 
the very pleasing information that we were shortly to re- 
ceive a, for us, rather large sum of money. It was good 
news, but it did not quite account for Mr. Hubbard's pres- 
ent state of mind, and I looked up enquiringly. 

" You see. Wife, it means that I can take my Labrador 
trip whether anyone sends me or not," he said trium- 
phantly. 

His eyes glowed and darkened and in his voice was, the 
ring of a great enthusiasm, for he had seen a Vision, and 
this trip was a vital part of his dream. 

The dream had begun years ago, when a boy lay out 
under the apple trees of a quiet farm in Southern Michi- 
gan with elbows resting on the pages of an old school 
geography, chin in palms and feet in air. The book was 
open at the map of Canada, and there on the other page 



4 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

were pictures of Indians dressed in skins with war bonnets 
on their heads; pictures of white hunters also dressed in 
skins, paddHng bark canoes ; winter pictures of dog-teams 
and sledges, the driver on his snow-shoes, his long whip in 
hand. The boy would have given all the arrow-heads he 
had for just one look at what he saw pictured there. 

He was born, this boy, of generations of pioneer ances- 
tors, the line of his mother's side running back to Flanders 
of three hundred years ago, through Michael Paulus Van 
Der Voort, who came to America from Dendermonde, East 
Flanders, and whose marriage on 18th November, 1640, to 
Marie Rappelyea, was the fifth recorded marriage in New 
Amsterdam, now New York. A branch runs back in Eng- 
land to John Rogers the martyr. It is the boast of this 
family that none of the blood has ever been known to 
" show the white feather." Among those ancestors of re- 
cent date of whose deeds he w^as specially proud, were the 
great-grandfather, Samuel Rogers, a pioneer preacher of 
the Church of Christ among the early settlers of Kentucky 
and Missouri, and the Grandfather Hubbard who took his 
part in the Indian fights of Ohio's early history. On both 
mother's and father's side is a record of brave, high- 
hearted, clean-living men and women, strong in Christian 
faith, lovers of nature, all of them, and thus partakers in 
rich measure of that which ennobles life. 

The father, Lconidas Hubbard, had come " 'cross coun- 
try " from Deerfield, Ohio, with gun on shoulder, when 



LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 5 

Michigan was still a wilderness, and had chosen this site 
for his future home. He had taught in a school for a time 
in his young manhood ; but the call of the out-of-doors was 
too strong, and forth he went again. When the responsi- 
bilities of life made it necessary for him to limit his wan- 
derings he had halted here ; and here on July 12th, 1872, 
the son Leonidas Hubbard, Jr., was born. 

He began by taking things very much to heart, joys 
and sorrows alike. In his play he was always setting him- 
self some unaccomplishable task, and then flying into a 
rage because he could not do it. The first great trouble 
came with the advent of a baby sister who, some foolish 
one told him, would steal from him his mother's heart. 
Passionately he implored a big cousin to " take that little 
baby out and chop its head off." 

Later he found it all a mistake, that his mother's heart 
was still his own, and so he was reconciled. 

From earliest recollection he had listened with wide eyes 
through winter evenings, while over a pan of baldwin ap- 
ples his father talked with some neighbour who had 
dropped in, of the early days when they had hunted deer 
and wolves and wild turkeys over this country where were 
now the thrifty Michigan farms. There were, too, his 
father's stories of his own adventures as hunter and miner 
in the mountains of the West. 

It seemed to him the time would never come when he 
would be big enough to hunt and trap and travel through 



6 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

the forests as his father had done. He grew so slowly; but 
the years did pass, and at last one day the boy almost died 
of gladness when his father told him he was big enough 
now to learn to trap, and that he should have a lesson to- 
morrow. It was the first great overwhelming joy. 

There was also a first great crime. 

While waiting for this happy time to come he had 
learned to do other things, among them to throw stones. 
It was necessary, however, to be careful what was aimed at. 
The birds made tempting marks ; but song-birds were 
sacred things, and temptation had to be resisted. 

One day while he played in the yard with his little sis- 
ter, resentment having turned to devotion, a wren flew 
down to the wood pile and began its song. It happened at 
that very moment he had a stone in his hand. He didn't 
quite have time to think before the stone was gone and the 
bird dropped dead. Dumb with horror the two gazed at 
each other. Beyond doubt all he could now expect w^as to 
go straight to torment. After one long look they turned 
and walked silently away in opposite directions. Never 
afterwards did they mention the incident to each other. 

A new life began for him with his trapping. He learned 
to fish as well, for besides being a hunter, his father was 
an angler of State-wide reputation. The days on which his 
father accompanied him along the banks of the St. Joe, or 
to some more distant stream, were very specially happy 
ones. His cup was quite filled full when, on the day he was 



LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 7 

twelve years old, a rifle all his own was placed in his hands. 
Father and son then hunted together. 

While thus growing intimate with the Hving things of 
the woods and streams, his question was not so much 
" What.'^ " as " Why.^ " As reading came to take a larger 
part in life and interest to reach out to human beings, 
again his question was "Why.^" So when other heroes 
took their places beside his father for their share of hom- 
age, they were loved and honoured for that which prompted 
their achievements more than for the deeds themselves. 

Passionately fond of history, with its natural accom- 
paniment geography, he revelled, as does every normal boy, 
in stories of the wars, Indian stories and tales of travel 
and adventure. His imagination kindled by what he had 
read, and the oft-repeated tales of frontier life in which 
the courage, endurance, and high honour of his own pioneer 
forefathers stood out strong and clear, it was but natural 
that the boy under the apple trees should feel romance in 
every bit of forest, every stream ; that his thoughts should 
be reaching towards the out-of-the-way places of the earth 
where life was still that of the pioneer with the untamed 
wilderness lying across his path, and on into the wilder- 
ness itself. 

Though born with all the instincts of the hunter, he 
was born also with an exquisitely tender and sympathetic 
nature, which made him do strange things for a bo}^ 

One day a toad hopped into the beeyard and his father 



8 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

was about to kill it. The boy petitioned for its life and 
carried it away. It came back. Again it was carried away. 
Again it returned and this time was taken clear to the 
river. 

Once a much loved aunt came to visit at his home bring- 
ing the little sister a beautiful, new doll. That night she 
trotted off to bed hugging the new treasure close. The boy 
did not love dolls ; but when he saw the old, rag baby left 
lonely and forsaken he quietly picked it up and carried it 
to bed with him. 

Years afterwards, when on a canoe trip on the Moose 
River, a disconsolate looking little Indian dog came and 
sat shyly watching us while we broke camp. We learned 
that the Indian owners had gone to the bush leaving him 
to fare as he might through the coming winter. When our 
canoe pushed out into the river there was an extra passen- 
ger. We brought him home to Congers, where he imme- 
diately carried consternation into the neighbouring chicken 
yards, convinced that he had found the finest partridge 
country on earth. 

When sixteen the boy went to attend the Angola (Indi- 
ana) Normal School. Here his decision for Christ was 
made. He was baptized and united with the Church of 
Christ. Three years later his teaching took him to North- 
ern Michigan where he found a wider range than he had yet 
known, and in the great pine forests of that country he 




LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 

(From the drawing by J. Syddall) 



LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 9 

did his first real exploring. Here were clear, cold streams 
with their trout and grayling, and here, when his work ad- 
mitted, he hunted and fished and dreamed out his plans, his 
thoughts turning ever more insistently to the big, outside 
world where his heroes did their work. 

He entered the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, in 
1893. High strung and sensitive, with a driving energy 
and ambition to have part in the larger work of the world, 
he suffered during the early part of his course all the 
agonies that come to those of such a nature while they 
grope in the dark for that which they are fitted to do. He 
reached out in many directions in his eff'ort to provide the 
needful money to enable him to take his course, but with- 
out a sense of special fitness in any. It came however with 
his earliest attempts in journalistic work. The discovery 
with its measure of self -recognition brought a thrill that 
compensated for all the dark hours. He now felt assured 
of success. 

His life in the University was one of varied and un- 
ceasing activity. In his studies history, literature, psychol- 
ogy claimed his special interest. He was an enthusiast in 
athletics, and found his field in running and boxing. The 
contest was as the wine of life to him. He was active in the 
literary and debating societies, and prominent in the Stu- 
dent's Christian Association, attending and taking part in 
the work of the local branch of the Church of Christ. His 



10 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

first newspaper work was done as an amateur on the college 
press. Then came assignments from the local dailies and 
correspondence for the Detroit papers. 

He possessed the " news sense " to an unusual degree, de- 
lighting to take " beats " from under the very feet of his 
brother reporters. 

In 1897 while he was still in Ann Arbor, just before Dr. 
James B. Angell, President of the University, left on his 
mission to Turkey, a telegram came from a Detroit even- 
ing paper directing him to see Dr. Angell and ask why 
he had changed his date of sailing. 

Dr. Angell was not in the habit of telling reporters 
what he did not wish them to know, and when asked the 
question replied : " Haven't a word to say. I really don't 
know anything new at all." Then with a smile which he 
fondly believed to be inscrutable, he remarked : " Why, I 
don't even know whether I'll go to Turkey or not." 

A few minutes later those last words of the President 
were reported over the wires, without the sarcasm and with- 
out the smile. That very evening, in big headlines on the 
first page, it was announced that there was some hitch, and 
that President Angell might not go as Minister to the 
Court of the Sultan. 

The correspondents of the morning papers hastened to 
see President Angell, who insisted that if he had made such 
a remark it was in fun. But it was unavailing. The de- 
spatch had stirred up the officials in Washington, and the 



LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 11 

morning papers that printed the President's explanation 
printed over it the official statement, that the Porte was ob- 
jecting to Dr. Angell, on account of his close relationship 
with the Congregational Missionary Board. 

After his graduation in 1897, he took a position on the 
staff of a Detroit evening paper. Much of the two years 
of his newspaper work there was spent in Lansing cover- 
ing State politics. In this line of work lay his chief in- 
terest, though he by no means confined himself to it. 

His work made it possible for him to indulge his bent 
for dipping into the by-ways of human life. Utterly fear- 
less, resolute, persistent, there was yet in his manner a beau- 
tiful simplicity, a gentleness and interest that rarely failed 
to disarm and win admission where he desired to enter. 
Added to this equipment were a fine sense of humour, a 
subtle sympathy, and a passionate tenderness for anyone 
or anything lonely or neglected or in trouble. So, as only 
the few do, he learned "''Why." 

Here amidst the struggles and temptations, the joys and 
disappointments, the successes and mistakes of his busy 
life, one hero rose surely to a place above all others, a 
place that was never usurped — " the man, Christ Jesus," 
worshipped in the years that were left, not only as the Re- 
deemer of the world, but as his ideal hero. 

This was his manliest man, so grandly strong and brave, 
yet so inexpressibly sweet-spirited and gentle, with a great 
human heart that, understanding so wholly, was yet so lit- 



12 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

tie understood ; that in the midst of overwhehning work and 
care and lonehness hungered for human love and sympathy, 
giving so generously of its own great store, receiving so 
little in return. Here he found the strong purpose, the in- 
domitable will, the courage that, accepting the hard things 
of life, could yet go unfalteringly forward, to the accom- 
plishment of a great work, even though there was ever be- 
fore Him the consciousness that at the end must come the 
great sacrifice. 

In 1899 he decided to launch out into the wider field, 
which journalistic work in the East offered, and in the 
summer of that year he came to New York. Many were the 
predictions of brother reporters and friends that he would 
starve in the great city. It was a struggle. He knew no 
one, had letters to no one, but that was rather as he wished 
it than otherwise. He liked to test his own fitness. It meant 
risk, but he knew his own capabilities and believed in his 
own resourcefulness. He had thoroughly convinced him- 
self that the men who achieve are those who do what other 
men are afraid to do. The difficulty would be to get an 
opening. That done, he had no fear of what would follow. 

He began his quest with a capital of less than five dol- 
lars. There were many disappointments, much weariness, 
and a long fast which came near to persuading him that 
his friends' predictions were perhaps about to be fulfilled. 
But he got his opening. 

Staggering with weakness, he had lived for two days in 



LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 13 

momentary dread of arrest for drunkenness. Then just 
when it seemed that he could go no farther, a former ac- 
quaintance from the West, of whose presence in the city he 
was aware, met him. Among the first questions was : " Do 
you need money ? " and forthwith a generous fifteen dollars 
was placed in his hand. That day one of his special stories 
was accepted, and only a few days later he was taken on 
the staff of the Daily News, where soon the best assign- 
ments of the paper were given him. 

" Do you know why you are getting the best work to do 
here.? " asked one of the new friends. 

"Why.?" 

*' It's because you're wJiite.^^ ^ 

This position he retained until May of the following 
year, meantime contributing to the editorial page of The 
Saturday Evening Post. Then an attack of typhoid lost 
him his position ; but he had made loyal friends, who de- 
lighted to come to his aid. Something of the quality of his 
own loyalty is expressed in an entry in his diary shortly 
after leaving the hospital. " Many good lessons in human 
nature. Learned much about who are the real friends, who 
may be trusted to a finish, who are not quitters, but it shall 
not be written." During the period of his convalescence 
which he spent among the Shawangunk Mountains of Sul- 
livan County, New York, he decided that if it were possible 
he would not go back to newspaper work. A friend had 
sent him a letter of introduction to the editor of Outing, 



14 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

which in August he presented, and was asked to bring in 
an article on the preservation of the Adirondack Park as a 
national pla^^ground. The article proved acceptable, and 
thenceforth most of his work was done for that magazine. 

In September he wrote his friend, Mr. James A. Leroy. 

" My dear Jim, — I think that regardless of your fright- 
ful neglect I shall be obliged to write you another note 
expressing sense of under-obligationness to you for that 
letter. It is the best thing I've run up against so to speak. 
As a result of it I am to have the pleasure of hastening 
Detroitward. There I shall register at the House. I 

shall sit in the window with my feet higher than my head, 
and wear a one-hundred-and-fifty-dollar-a-week air of non- 
chalance. When the festive Detroit reporter shys past look- 
ing hungrily at the cafe, I'll look at my watch with a won- 
der-if-it's-time-to-dress-for-dinner air and fill his soul with 
envy. This has been the dream that has haunted me ever 
since those childhood da3^s when you and I ate at Spa- 
ghetti's and then went to the House to talk it over.. 
I shall carry out the dire scheme and then — well, then, if 
Fate says for me to hustle across the Great Divide, I'll go 
with the feeling that life has not been in vain." 

Later, January 14th of the following year, to the same 
friend who was then in Manila as secretary to Dean Wor- 
cester. 

" You may think it wondrous strange that I should be 
here in Canada in mid-winter when I could as well be south. 



LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 15 

There is a mystery, and since you are on the other side of 
the world I don't mind telhng. I am here on a fihbustering 
expedition. I made a firm resolution some months ago that 
a certain portion of Canada should be annexed to the 
United States. I am here fostering annexation sentiment, 
and have succeeded so well that the consent is unanimous, 
and the annexation will occur just as soon as L. H., junior, 
is able to pay board for two, which will probably be a mat- 
ter of a few weeks. So don't be surprised if you receive a 
square envelope containing an announcement which reads 
something like this : 



Mr. and Mrs. 



of Bewdley, Ontario, 
announce the of their daughter 



to 
Mr. Leoxidas Hubbard, Jr." 

On his return to New York, a short time later, he was 
assigned a trip through the Southern States. Hence a tele- 
gram, on January S9th, to a quiet Canadian town. On 
January 31st a quiet wedding in a little church in New 
York, and then five months in the mountains of Virginia, 
North Carolina, Tennessee, and among the forests and cot- 
ton plantations of Mississippi. 

Besides the work done for the magazine on this trip, he 
gave the Atlantic Monthly two articles, " The Moonshiner 
at Home," and " Barataria : The Ruins of a Pirate King- 
dom." 



16 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

During the fall, winter and early spring, our home was 
in Wurtsboro, Sullivan County, New York, a quaint old 
village in the beautiful Mamakating valley. Here he hunted 
and fished and worked, February found him on a snow- 
shoe trip in Northern Quebec with the Montagnais Indian 
trappers, the outcome of which was his " Children of the 
Bush." 

On April 1st, 1902, he entered the office as assistant 
editor of Outing, Here was a new field and another op- 
portunity for testing his fitness. He threw himself into the 
work with characteristic energy and enthusiasm, and his in- 
fluence on the magazine was marked from the first. He 
soon succeeded in projecting into it something of his own 
passionately human personality. In the fall of that year a 
noted angler commented to him on the change in it and his 
responsibilitj^ 

" When a big salmon comes to the top, there is a great 
swirl on the water. You don't see the salmon, but you 
know he is there," he said. 

Office work left little time for writing; but in the early 
autumn of that year a vacation trip to the north shore of 
Lake Superior gave him two articles, " Where Romance 
Lingers," and " Off Days on Superior's North Shore." 

In January 1903 the trip to Labrador was decided on, 
and his preparation for it begun. Before the winter was 
over his plans were made. On May 13th it was arranged 
with the magazine that it should go as an Outing expe- 




WHERE ROMANCE LINGERS 



LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 17 

dition. The preparation held for him the many difficulties 
and trials common to such undertakings, but also, perhaps, 
more than the usual pleasures. 

The big map of Labrador looked back from the wall of 
the little study in Congers. We stood before it a long time 
discussing plans and possibilities. Then an eager, happy 
face was turned to me as he told how he would write the 
story and how he would have grown when he came home 
again. 

On June 20th he sailed from New York with his little 
party. 

In January following came that short message, " Mr. 
Hubbard died October 18th in the interior of Labrador." 

In March were received the letters containing that final 
record of his life, which took from the hearts of those who 
loved him best the intolerable bitterness, because it told 
that he had not only dreamed his dream — he had attained 
his Vision. 

It was a short, full life journey, and a joyous, un- 
daunted heart that traversed it. Almost the most beautiful 
of its attributes was the joyousness. 

He was " glad of Life because it gave him a chance to 
love and to work and to play." 

He never failed to " look up at the stars." 

He thought " every day of Christ." 

Sometimes towards evening in dreary November, when 
the clouds hang heavy and low, covering all the sky, 



18 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

and the hills are solemn and sombre, and the wind is cold, 
and the lake black and sullen, a break in the dark veil lets 
through a splash of glorious sunshine. It is so very beau- 
tiful as it falls into the gloom that your breath draws in 
quick and you watch it with a thrill. Then you see that it 
moves towards you. All at once you are in the midst of it, 
it is falling round you and seems to have paused as if it 
meant to stay with you and go no farther. 

While you revel in this wonderful light that has stopped 
to enfold you, suddenly it is not falling round you any 
more, and you see it moving steadily on again, out over 
the marsh with its bordering evergreens, touching with 
beauty every place it falls upon, forward up the valley, un- 
wavering, without pause, till you are holding your breath 
as it begins to climb the hills away yonder. 

It is gone. 

The smoke blue clouds hang lower and heavier, the hills 
stand more grimly solemn and sombre, the wind is cold, the 
lake darker and more sullen, and the beauty has gone out 
of the marsh. 

Then — then it is night. 

But you do not forget the Light. 

You know it still shines — somewhere. 



CHAPTER II 

SLIPPING AWAY INTO THE WILDERNESS 

It was on the 15th of July, 1903, that Leonidas Hubbard, 
Jr., my husband, with two companions, set out from North- 
west River Post, near the head of Lake Melville, for a 
canoe trip into the interior of Labrador, which he hoped 
would not only afford him an interesting wilderness ex- 
perience but also an opportunity to explore and map one, 
and perhaps both, of these rivers, the Northwest River 
draining Lake Michikamau to Lake Melville, and the 
George River draining the northern slope of the plateau 
to Ungava Bay. 

Misled by information obtained at the post, which cor- 
responded with the indications of the map he carried, that 
of the Geological Survey of Canada, Mr. Hubbard took 
the Susan River, which enters Grand Lake at the head of 
a bay five miles from its western end. The Susan River led 
them, not by an open waterway to Lake Michikamau, but 
up to the edge of the plateau, where they became lost in 
the maze of its lakes. When within sight of the great lake 
the party was forced to begin a retreat, which j\lr. Hub- 
bard did not survive to complete. He died in the far in- 
terior, and the object of his expedition was not achieved. 

19 



20 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

It seemed to me fit that my husband's name should reap 
the fruits of service which had cost him so much, and in 
the summer of 1905 I myself undertook the conduct of the 
second Hubbard Expedition, and, with the advantage of 
the information and experience obtained by the first, a 
larger crew and a three weeks' earlier start, successfully 
completed the work undertaken two years before. 

My decision to undertake the completion of my hus- 
band's work was taken one day in January of 1905. That 
evening I began making my plans and preparations for 
the journey. Towards the end of May they were completed, 
and on the evening of the 16th of June I sailed from Hali- 
fax for Labrador, arriving at Northwest River Post, 
the real starting-point of my journey, on Sunday morn- 
ing, June 25th. 

It was with characteristic courtesy and hospitality that 
M. Duclos, who was in charge of the French trading post, 
placed himself and his house at my service, and our coming 
was celebrated by a dinner of wild goose, plum pudding, 
and coffee. After the voyage from Halifax it seemed good 
to rest a little with the firm earth under foot, and where 
the walls of one's habitation were still. Through the open 
windows came the fragrance of the spruce woods, and from 
the little piazza in front of the house you could look down 
and across Lake Melville, and away to the blue mountains 
beyond, where the snow was still lying in white masses. 



AWAY INTO THE WILDERNESS 21 

The settlement at Northwest River consists mainly of 
the two trading posts, the French post with its three build- 
ings — the house, store and oil house — on the right bank 
of the river, close to its discharge into Lake Melville, and 
higher up on the opposite shore the line of low, white 
buildings of the Hudson's Bay Company post. A few tiny 
planters' homes complete the sum total of its greatness. 

Monday morning the work of preparation for departure 
into the wilderness began. My crew numbered four, chief 
among whom was George Els on, who had loyally served 
Mr. Hubbard in 1903, and who, with rare skill and rarer 
devotion, had recovered Mr. Hubbard's body and his pho- 
tographic material from the interior in the depths of the 
following winter. The other two men were Joseph Iserhoff, 
a Russian half-breed, and Job Chapies, a pure blood Cree 
Indian. These three men were expert hunters and canoe- 
men, having been born and brought up in the James Bay 
country, and they came to me from Missanabie, some 700 
miles WTst of Montreal. The fourth was Gilbert Blake, a 
half-breed Eskimo boy trapper, one of the two young lads 
of the rescue party George Elson had sent back two years 
before, when his heroic, but unsuccessful, efforts to save 
Mr. Hubbard's life had brought him to Donald Blake's 
house. Through the courtesy of M. Duclos, in whose 
service he was employed at the time of my arrival, he was 
released that he might go with me. The men were splendid, 
capable-looking fellows, ^ith an air of quiet dignity and 



22 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

self-possession about them, which comes from conscious 
abihty and character. Gilbert was a bright-faced, merry- 
hearted boy, with a reputation for being a willing worker, 
which he fully lived up to on the journey. All seemed 
thoroughly to enjoy the prospect of the trip, and their as- 
surance greatly added to my ease of mind. 

A deeper touch of anxiety was added for me by infor- 
mation obtained at Rigolette to the effect that the Hudson's 
Bay Company's steamer. Pelican, my only means of re- 
turn to civilisation before the closing in of winter, would 
be at the post at Ungava, my destination, the last week in 
August. That left us two months to make the journey, 
which, at the shortest, would carry us across 550 miles of 
Labrador wilderness. It seemed a great deal to expect, but 
the men were confident and only eager to be started. 

The task of unpacking, rearranging, and completing 
my outfit was not accomplished when night came. A num- 
ber of the things I had counted on procuring at the posts 
were not to be had — the stores being almost empty of sup- 
plies. Llowever, M. Duclos and Mr. Cotter of the Hudson's 
Bay Company cheerfully raided their own domiciles to 
supply my lack ; substitutes were improvised, and shortly 
after noon on Tuesday the outfit was completed and loaded 
into the canoes. To my great satisfaction they were found 
to carry the load easily, riding well out of the water. 

There were two canoes, canvas covered and 19 feet long, 
13 inches deep, 34 inches wide, and with each of them three 



AWAY INTO THE WILDERNESS 23 

paddles and a sponge. The remainder of the outfit con- 
sisted of 2 balloon-silk tents, 1 stove, 7 waterproof canvas 
bags, one dozen 10 lbs. waterproof balloon-silk bags, 6 
tarpaulins, 392 lbs. of flour, 4 lbs. baking powder, 15 lbs. 
rice, 20 cans standard emergency rations, 12 lbs. tea, 12 
lbs. chocolate, 60 lbs. sugar, 20 lbs. erbswurst, 1 oz. cry- 
stalose, 4 cans condensed milk, 4 cans condensed soup, 5 
lbs. hard tack, 200 lbs. bacon, 14 lbs. salt. There were 
kitchen utensils — 3 small axes, 1 crooked knife, and 2 
nets. The outfit of firearms consisted of two rifles, a 45-70 
with 60 rounds of ammunition, and a 38-55 with 100 
rounds. Each of the men had a 22 cal. 10-inch barrel, 
single-shot pistol for partridges and other small game. 
Each also carried a hunting knife, a pair of light wool 
camp blankets, and an extra pair of " shoe-packs." 

For myself, I had a revolver, a hunting knife, and some 
fishing tackle ; one three and a quarter by four and a quar- 
ter folding pocket kodak, one panorama kodak, a sextant 
and artificial horizon, a barometer, a thermometer. I wore 
a short skirt over knickerbockers, a short sweater, and a 
belt to which were attached my cartridge pouch, revolver, 
and hunting knife. My hat was a rather narrow brimmed 
soft felt. I had one pair of heavy leather moccasins reach- 
ing almost to my knees, one pair of high seal-skin boots, 
one pair low ones, which M. Duclos had given me, and 
three pairs of duff'el. Of underwear I had four suits and 
five pairs of stockings, all wool. I took also a rubber auto- 



24 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

mobile shirt, a long, Swedish dog-skin coat, one pair leather 
gloves, one pair woollen gloves, and a blouse — for Sun- 
days. For my tent I had an air mattress, crib size, one 
pair light grey camp blankets, one light wool comfortable, 
weighing 3% lbs., one little feather pillow, and a hot- 
water bottle. 

It was 3.15 P.M., July 27th, when the last details of 
preparation were completed, and we were ready to start, 
with all Northwest River to see us off. 

" You will be all right, Mrs. Hubbard," said Mr. Cot- 
ter. " At first I did not think you could do it, but I have 
changed my mind. You can do it, and without any trouble 
too. Good-bye, and the best of success to you." 

The farewell wishes of M. Duclos and M. Fournier, his 
assistant, were not less enthusiastic. M. Duclos ran for- 
ward a little, kodak in hand, and as the canoe glided past 
up the river, he said : " I have ze las' picture, Madame." 

A few minutes' paddling carried the canoes round the 
point, and the two posts were lost to sight. 

It did not seem strange or unnatural to be setting out 
as I was on such an errand. Rather there came a sense of 
unspeakable relief in thus slipping away into the wilder- 
ness, with the privilege of attempting the completion of 
the work my husband had undertaken to do. Everything 
looked hopeful for my plans, and I was only glad to be 
really started on my way at last. Behind me in my canoe 
sat the trusty hero whose courage and honour and fidelity 



AWAY INTO THE WILDERNESS 25 

made mj venture possible, and who took from my shoul- 
ders so much of the responsibility. Through George Elson 
I engaged and paid the other men of my party, and on him 
I relied to communicate to them my plans and my direc- 
tions and desires. 

It was a perfect day. The air was clear as crystal, and 
the water, the greenwoods, the hills and mountains with 
lines and patches of white upon them, the sky with its big, 
soft clouds made such a combination of green and blue 
and silver as I had never seen except in Labrador. Before 
five o'clock we had passed the rapid at the head of the 
three-mile stretch of river draining Grand Lake to Lake 
Melville, to which alone the natives give the name North- 
west River, and turned into Grand Lake. 

The thought of Grand Lake had troubled me a little. It 
is forty miles long and four miles wide, and only a little 
wind is needed to make such a body of water impassable for 
loaded canoes. M. Duclos had offered his yacht to take us 
to the mouth of the Nascaupee River, but when we were 
ready to start there was not enough wind to carry her 
past the rapid, and we decided not to wait. On entering the 
lake we turned to the right and landed to put up our first 
sails. Soon they were caught by the light breeze and, to- 
gether with the quick paddle strokes, carried the canoes at 
a rapid pace towards Cape Corbeau, which rose high and 
commanding twelve miles away. 

At 6 P.M. we landed for supper, hard tack and bacon 



26 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

and tea, and then as quicklj^ as might be were on our way 
again. There was need to make the most of such perfect 
conditions for passing Grand Lake. Sunset, and we were 
nearing Cape Corbeau. Then came twihght which was al- 
most more beautiful, and I sat sometimes thinking my own 
thoughts, sometimes listening to George and Job as they 
chatted with each other in Indian. Ten o'clock came, and 
still the dip, dip, of the paddles went on. Now and again 
they were laid across the canoe, and the pipes came out, or 
the tired arms rested a little. It was not till eleven that we 
finally turned in to camp at Silver Pine Lodge, having made 
twenty-two miles of our journey. The sky was still light 
in the north-west. 

The men soon had a roaring camp fire, for it had grown 
cold after sunset. We had a second supper, and at 12.45 
A.M. I made the last entry in my diary and went to my 
tent. Meanwhile, the light slowly shifted from west to east 
along the northern sky, but did not fade away. The men 
did not put up their tent, but lay beside the fire, for we 
meant to be up betimes and try to make the mouth of the 
Nascaupee River before the lake, which was already rough- 
ening a little, became impassable. 

At 3 A.M. George called, " All aboard." A quick break- 
fast, and we were started. Paddling straight towards 
Berry Head we passed it about six o'clock, and by 8 a.m. 
were safe on the Nascaupee River, where the winds could 
not greatly trouble us. 



AWAY INTO THE WILDERNESS 27 

The sand-hills stand about the wide-mouthed bay into 
which the river flows, and many little wooded islands lie at 
its head, and in the river's mouth, which is entirely ob- 
scured by them, so that it is not until you are close upon 
them that the river can be seen. For a mile we threaded 
our way among these islands and found ourselves at the 
mouth of the Crooked River where it enters the Nascaupee 
on the north. The two river courses lie near together for 
some distance, separated only by a sandy plateau, in places 
little more than a mile wide. 

At 10 A.M. we halted for lunch, and after the meal the 
men lay down in the willows to sleep. I tried to sleep too, 
but could not. The Susan River had been so rough and 
hard to travel, and this river was so big, and deep, and 
fine. The thought of what missing it two years before had 
cost would not be shut out. 

After a bite, at 3 p.m. we were off again, and had gone 
only a little way when George exclaimed, " Who's that.^^ 
Why, it's a bear." 

On the farther side of the river walking along the hill 
wa.s a huge black bear. I had never before seen one any- 
where but in the Zoo, and the sight of this big fellow en- 
joying the freedom of his native country gave me quite a 
new sensation. At first we decided not to molest him. A full 
supply of provisions made it unnecessary to secure game 
now, and at this time of the year the skin would be of no 
value. The men sent a few rifle shots in his direction. 



28 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

though not with any thought of their hitting him. They 
had the effect of making him quicken his pace, however, 
and the trail took him up to the top of the hill where, as 
he w^ent leisurely along, his big form clearly outlined 
against the sky, he proved too great a temptation. Sud- 
denly the canoe shot out across the river, and on the other 
shore ran into the mouth of a little stream at the foot of a 
big sand-hill. 

Job hurried off with the rifle, and George and I followed 
as I was able. We had to cross a broad belt of tangled wil- 
lows, and to know w^hat that means, one must do it; but 
the prospect of at least getting on the edge of a bear chase 
is great inducement when once you become a little excited, 
and I scrambled through. The hill was steep and thickly 
strewn with windfalls about which the new growth had 
sprung up. Its top was like the thin edge of a wedge, and 
the farther side dropped, a steep sand-bank, to the stream 
which flowed at its foot. When we were hardly more than 
half-way up, there was the sound of a shot and a funny, 
little shrill cry from Job. Bruin had been climbing the 
sand-bank, and was nearly at the top when Job fired. The 
bullet evidently struck him for, doubling up, his head be- 
tween his legs, he rolled over and over to the foot of the 
bank. When I reached the top of the hill he was on his 
legs again and running down along the edge of the stream. 
There had been only one cartridge in the rifle, and Job 
rushed down the hill to the canoe for more. 



AWAY INTO THE WILDERNESS 29 

Joe and Gilbert had crossed the river meantime and 
were landing near our canoe. The stream turned abruptly 
round the foot of the hill close to them, and I wondered 
what would happen when Bruin appeared suddenly round 
the bend. Evidently Bruin had the best eyes — or nose — 
for, on coming to the bend, he turned suddenly and started 
back up-stream ; but again changing his mind he made up 
over the hill where we had first seen him. I was still panting 
and trembling with the exertion of my climb, but I took 
out my revolver and sent a few shots after him. It is 
hardly needful to say they did not hurt the bear. When 
Job and Gilbert came up with the rifles to where we were 
standing he was just disappearing over the top of the hill, 
having apparently been little injured, and so the chase was 
not followed up. 

Our camp that night was on a high sand-bank on the 
north shore of the river. The place chosen looked rough 
and unpromising to me, for the ground was thickly strewn 
with windfalls. All this part of the country had been 
burned over many years ago, and was very desolate look- 
ing. The men, however, pronounced the place " Ma-losh- 
an! Ma-losh-an!" (fine! fine!) and in less than an hour 
the tents were pitched and made comfortable. New ex- 
periences seemed to be coming thick and fast, for we had 
supper of porcupine down on the rocks at the shore. I did 
not like it. 

I used my air mattress that night, building it up at the 



30 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

head with my dunnage bag, and at the foot with boughs. 
My hot-water bottle was also called into requisition, for it 
was cold. They were both better than I had hoped, and I 
slept as comfortably as if in the most luxurious apartment. 



CHAPTER III 

CLIMBING THE RAPIDS 

The call " All aboard," came at about six o'clock on 
Thursday morning. We had breakfast, and started at 8 
A.M. A cold northwest wind was blowing, and an occa- 
sional light shower fell. The sand-hills on either side of 
the river grew higher as we went up, with always the wil- 
lows along the water edge. Miles ahead we could see 
Mounts Sawyer and Elizabeth rising blue and fine above 
the other hills, and thus standing up from the desolation 
of the burnt lands all about; they came as a foreword of 
what was awaiting us further on. 

Not far from camp we took another porcupine. There 
were beaver signs too, willows cut off and floating down- 
stream along the shore. Leaning over, Job picked one up 
and handed it back to me to show me how cleverly they do 
their work. A rabbit ran up from the water edge. Now it 
was a muskrat lying in among the willows. He was evi- 
dently trying to decide which way to go, and in a moment or 
two began swimming straight towards the pistols that were 
being loaded for him. I was a little startled and exclaimed, 
" Why, what's the matter with him ? Is he hurt .? " Where- 

31 



32 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

upon the men laughed so heartily that the rat almost es- 
caped. I did not understand that it was the swift current 
which was carrjdng him against his will directly towards 
us, and could only think that he must have been sick, or 
hurt perhaps, to make him do so strange a thing. From 
that time forward, " What's the matter with him.? Is he 
hurt.'^ " became a byword in camp. 

Thirteen miles above Grand Lake we reached the port- 
age route by which the Indians avoid the roughest part of 
the river. It leads out on the north bank opposite the 
mouth of the Red Wine River, passing up to the higher 
country, through a chain of lakes, and entering the river 
again at Seal Lake. By this route the Indians reach Seal 
Lake from Northwest River in less than two weeks, taking 
just twenty-one days to make the journey through to Lake 
Michikamau. 

The trappers told us that, going by the river, it would 
take a month to reach Seal Lake. I wished very much to 
keep to the river route, because Mr. Hubbard would have 
had to do so had he not missed the way, there being no 
Indians within reach, at the time he made his journey, 
from whom we could obtain information. Yet our time was 
short. From an Indian, whom we found at Northwest 
River, I had a map of the portage; but it was crude, and 
we should not be able to make the trip as quickly as the 
Indians even at best. It was quite possible that a good deal 
of time might have to be spent looking for the trail, for it 



CLIMBING THE RAPIDS 33 

was old and would not be easily found. It was hard to de- 
cide what was best to do. 

Going ashore the men hastily examined the trail. The 
council which followed resulted in a decision to keep to the 
river. The work would be harder, but we should probably 
make as good progress and reach Seal Lake as soon as by 
going through the lakes. 

Above this point the river swings more to the north, 
and the current grows swifter as you ascend. A little be- 
fore noon we landed at Point Lucie, a high, sandy point, 
which stands out into the river at the foot of the first rapid. 
Here the trappers leave their boats and make no attempt 
to take canoes farther up, but portage their provisions 
and traps the remaining 40 miles to Seal Lake. It seemed 
quite thrilling to have arrived at the wonderful rapids I 
had heard so much about. It made me tremble a little to 
think of sometimes being on them in a canoe, for there was 
so much water, and the river looked so big. 

Below Point Lucie a broad bed of loose rocks reached 
high up at its foot, and in the curve of the point were 
great sand and gravel-covered hummocks of ice. For some 
distance below us the farther and right bank of the river 
was lined with huge ice-banks, still 10 and 12 feet thick, 
which extended up almost to where the river came pouring 
out from the foot of Mount Sawyer, in a leaping, foaming 
torrent. At this point the river spread out over a bed of 
loose rocks about half a mile wide, which broke the water 



S4 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

into channels, the widest, deepest, and swiftest of which 
flowed along the farther shore. The smaller and shallower 
ones curved into the bay above Point Lucie. A short dis- 
tance above us several of these united, and from there the 
water was deep and swift and poured round Point Lucie 
with tremendous force. Around the curve of the bay and 
stranded in the river-bed were more ice-banks. 

While George, Joe, and Gilbert were busy preparing 
lunch Job disappeared into the woods. Some time later he 
came back with four stout dry poles. They were about 
nine feet long and two and a half inches in diameter at the 
lower end. After lunch the work of shaving and shoeing 
them began, and the crooked knife came into use. It was 
fine to watch Job's quick, deft strokes as he made them 
ready. The " shods " George had brought from Missana- 
bie. These were made at Moose Factory, and were the kind 
used throughout the James Bay country. They were hollow 
cone-shaped pieces of iron a quarter of an inch thick and 
open down one side, so that they might not break with the 
strain. They were 4 inches long, rounded and solid at the 
small end, and on either side, about an inch from the top, 
was a hole to admit the nail which fastened the pole in 
place. When finished they looked as if meant for heavy 
work. 

All being now ready to proceed George said: "We will 
get in around the point, Mrs. Hubbard." 

I wondered why, and concluded it must be because the 




JOB WAS IX HIS ELEMENT 



MAKING C.\NOE POLES 



CLIMBING THE RAPIDS 35 

water was so swift at the point. I still wondered whjr 
George did not stay to help Job; for as all their conver- 
sations were carried on in Indian, I was in darkness as to 
What was to happen. In silence I waited for developments, 
A little distance above the point, near where the water was 
deeper and not so swift, I looked back, and to my astonish- 
ment I saw Job poling the canoe through the swift water 
alone. But this was mild surprise compared with what was 
awaiting me. 

We were soon in the canoe, and for nearly half a mile 
they poled up the swift current. The water was deep, and 
sometimes they bent over the poles till their hands dipped 
into the water. It seemed as if they must certainly fall 
overboard. I expected every minute to find myself perforce 
taking a header into the deep water. Sometimes we brushed 
the edge of a big ice-bank. The moment the poles were 
lifted the canoe stopped its forward movement, and if they 
were not quickly set again it began to slip back with the 
current. At last the water became too shallow and rough 
and we went ashore. Here the portaging began, and I 
climbed up over the ice-banks and walked along the shore. 
Even while ice and snow lingered, the flowers were begin- 
ning to bloom, and I found two tiny blue violets. On reach- 
ing the deepest part of the bay I turned to look back. Job 
was bringing one of the canoes up the rapid with two 
full portage loads in it. I could scarcely believe what I 
saw, and ran eagerly down to secure a photograph of this 



S6 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

wonderful feat. But my powers of astonishment reached 
their hmit when later I saw him calmly bringing the canoe 
round the bend at the foot of Mount Sawyer and up into 
the narrower part of the river. Now I was not alone in 
my wonder. Both George and Joe watched with interest 
equal to mine, for even they had never seen a canoeman pole 
in water so rough. 

Job looked as if in his element. The wilder the rapid 
the more he seemed to enjoy it. He would stand in the 
stern of the canoe, right foot back, left forward with leg 
against the thwart, with set pole holding it steady in the 
rushing, roaring water while he looked the way over, choos- 
ing out his course. Then he would move the canoe for- 
ward again, twisting its nose now this way, now that, in the 
most marvellous fashion, and when he drove it into the 
rush of water pouring round a big rock the pole would 
bend and tremble with the weight and strain he put upon 
it. Sometimes I could hardly breathe while watching him. 
After taking one canoe some distance above the bend he 
went back for the second, and all the remainder of the 
afternoon Job climbed hills of water in the canoes. 

That evening our camp was again on top of a high 
bank thirty feet or more above the river. Joe and Gilbert 
put up the tents, while down at our camp fire at the shore 
George made the bannocks and Job skinned, dressed, and 
cooked the porcupine. When it grew so dark that I could 
not see to write I went to help cook bannocks. It seemed 



CLIMBING THE RAPIDS 37 

good to be near the fire too, for it was growing cold. 
George and Job chatted merrily in Indian, Job evidently, as 
fond of fun as George. The fun suddenly came to an 
end, however, when Gilbert came down to say that the tube 
of my bed-pump was missing. It was too true. The thing 
was not to be found anywhere. It had been dropped when 
the stuff was handed down the bank in the morning. 

It seemed a quite serious matter to me, knowing as I 
did from past experience that I cannot sleep on the ground 
long without growing very tired, when I lose my nerve and 
am afraid to do anything. I did not like to think of the 
possibility of either growing desperate and wanting to 
turn back or breaking down under the strain of going 
on. Some one would have to go back for the tube, and 
time was precious now. It would be trying to lose a day. 
While I sat rather disconsolate considering the situation, 
George conceived the brilliant idea of having Gilbert turn 
himself into an air-pump, which he did quite cheerfully, 
and very soon my bed was as tight and firm as need be, 
and peace reigned again. 

When at last we assembled for supper it was nearly 10 
P.M., and the stars were coming out over Mount Sawyer. 
The meal was a quiet one, for all were tired, and well 
content to listen in silence to the music of the river, as 
softly the night-gloom gathered unto itself the wilder- 
ness. 



CHAPTER IV 

DISASTER WHICH THREATENED DEFEAT 

Friday morning was warm and bright. It seemed won- 
derful to be having so much fine weather in Labrador, 
and not a fly or mosquito as yet. The one nuisance we 
had met was mice or lemmings. They had been busy with 
my hat in the night, and when I came to put it on that 
morning I found there was a hole eaten in the crown 
and a meal or two taken out of the brim. There seemed 
to be thousands of them, and they ran squealing about 
everywhere, great fat fellows, some of them as big as grey 
squirrels. The ground was so perforated with their holes 
that it reminded one of a porous plaster. 

While the outfit was being brought up I walked along 
the shore watching the rapids. The men did not like to see 
me go near the river at all except when in the canoe, and 
warned me against going to the rapids. I promised to 
be careful, but not to keep away altogether, for they 
grew more and more fascinating. I wanted to be near 
them and watch them all the time. They were so strong, 
so irresistible. They rushed on so fast, and nothing could 
stop them. They would find a way over or around every 

38 



DISASTER THREATENS DEFEAT 39 

obstacle that might be placed before them. It made one 
wish that it were possible to join them and share in 
their strength. About a mile above camp I stepped out on 
a great boulder close to where they were very heavy. The 
rock seemed large enough so that I could scarcely fall off if 
I tried ; but when the men came up George said : " Mrs. 
Hubbard, you must not do that." 

"Why.?" 

" You will get dizzy and f aU in." 

" But I do not get dizzy." 

" Maybe you think you will not. It is aU right when 
you are looking at the rapid, but it is when you turn that 
you will fall. It is very dangerous. If you are going to 
do that we will just turn round and go back to North- 
west River." 

That settled the matter. 

The river here became impracticable, and Job went for- 
ward to hunt out the trail. The sandhills at this point 
stood back a little from the river. The low-lying land be- 
tween was thickly wooded, but up on the hills the walking 
was good. So the trail was cut straight up the bank 
which was eighty feet high and very steep. 

If any one supposes that cutting a trail means making a 
nice, smooth little path through the woods, let him revise 
his ideas. The hill-side was a network of new growth 
and windfalls. Now and again I made the mistake of call- 
ing them deadfalls. Certainly all women, and perhaps a 



40 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

few men, would think the mistake pardonable could they 
see the trail which led straight over the tangled heaps of 
fallen tree-trunks. I watched the men carr^^ing the canoes 
and their heavy loads over these with wonder almost equal 
to that with which I had looked at Job's work in the 
rapids. 

The outfit made about four loads each for them, and 
when it was all safe on top of the hill, Joe sat down 
trembling like a leaf. George looked a bit shaky, and Gil- 
bert very hot and tired. 

Joe said : " In a week George and I will be hardened 
up so that there won't be any trembling." 

Job said : " Always hard." 

By noon it had grown very hot. There was scarcely a 
stir in the air, and the sun beat down on the sand-hills in no 
gentle manner. The perspiration ran down the men's faces 
as they carried, and the flies were beginning to come. 
After lunch Job set up two impromptu wigwams, string- 
ing a tarpaulin over each, and under these shelters the men 
rested till 4 p.m. By camping time the outfit had been 
moved up over the portage about a mile, and I had learned 
something more about what packing means. 

All day it had been slow, hot work, and the men were 
tired. I thought I would take a hand in making camp 
and getting supper. We had a beautiful camping-place, its 
only drawback being the distance from the water supply, 
for we were now SOO feet above the river, and some dis- 



DISASTER THREATENS DEFEAT 41 

tance back from it. The ground was dry and moss covered, 
and the scattered spruce suppHed the carpets for the tents 
which were soon ready for the night. 

There were bannocks to be made again, and I helped 
to cook them. It was no small surprise to find how much 
art there is in doing it. At first I thought I could teach 
the men a lot of things about cooking bannocks, but it 
was not long before I began to suspect that I had some- 
thing to learn. They were made simply with the flour, salt, 
baking-powder and water, but without any shortening. 
This made them tough, but they carried better so. As 
George said : " You can throw them round, or sit on them, 
or jump on them, and they are just as good after you 
have done it as before." 

In cooking them a piece of the dough is taken and 
worked into a round lump, which is pressed flat into a fry- 
ing-pan. It is then placed before the fire till the upper 
side of the bannock is slightly browned, when it is turned 
and replaced till the other side is browned. As soon as the 
bannock is stiff* enough to stand on its edge it is taken 
out of the pan to make room for more, and placed before 
a rock near the fire, or on a pair of forked sticks until it 
has had time, as nearly as can be calculated, to cook half- 
way through. Then it is turned again and allowed to cook 
from the other side. In this process the possibilities in the 
way of burning hands and face, and of dropping the ban- 
nocks into the fire and ashes are great. I seemed to take 



42 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

advantage of them all, but if my efforts were not much 
help they certainly furnished amusement for the men. 
The task is a long one too, and it was nine o'clock when 
supper was ready. 

Job, who had been absent for some time, returned now 
with a report that three-quarters of a mile further on we 
could again take the river. Despite the day's work he looked 
all alive with interest and energy. He loved to pole up a 
rapid or hunt out a trail just as an artist loves to paint. 

Supper over, we sat at the camp fire for a little while. 
The sunset light still tinged the sky back of Mount Saw- 
yer, and from its foot came up the roar of the rapid. Now 
and again a bird's evening song came down to us from 
the woods on the hill above, and in the tent Joe was play- 
ing softly on the mouth organ, " Annie Laurie " and 
" Comin' through the Rye." After I had gone to my tent 
the men sang, very softly, an Indian " Paddling Song." 

A stream of bright sunlight on the roof of my tent 
roused me on Saturday morning, and mingling with the 
sound of the river came again that of the " Paddling 
Song." At breakfast all were exclaiming over the won- 
derful weather, George insisting that he did not believe 
this could be Labrador at all. 

That morning I was to make my maiden attempt at fol- 
lowing a new trail, and when the last load was ready I 
went first to try my fortunes. The trail meant just a little 
snip off the bark of a young tree here, the top of a bush 



DISASTER THREATENS DEFEAT 4S 

freshly broken there, again a Httle branch cut showing that 
the axe had been used. There was not a sign of any path. 
The way was not always the easiest, and sometimes not the 
shortest, but it was always the quickest. My heart quite 
swelled with pride when I reached the river at 8.30 a.m., 
having missed the trail but once, and having found it again 
with little delay. Already it had grown hot on the hills, 
and the mosquitoes were beginning to come, so that it was 
good to be back at the river again; but before the men 
went away for more loads I had to promise very solemnly 
that I would not go on the rocks by the rapids. 

By noon the whole outfit was at the river, we had lunch, 
and the men rested an hour and then we were off again. 
A mile of paddling and two short portages brought us to 
the head of what the trappers call " Three Mile Rapid." 
The river was very picturesque here, and in midstream 
were great swells which curled back like ocean breakers as 
the torrent of water poured over the boulders of the river- 
bed. I smile now remembering how I asked George if he 
thought I should see anything so fine as this rapid on 
the rest of my journey. 

Splendid as the rapids were, it was a great relief to 
reach smooth water again, though the current was still 
swift. Passing a bend half a mile above we came in sight 
of a beautiful wooded island, and saw that we had reached 
the edge of the burned-over country. It would scarcely 
be possible to convey any adequate idea of the contrast. 



44 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

The country had been grand with a desolate sort of gran- 
deur softened by the sunshine and water and the beautiful 
skies, but now the river with its darkly-wooded hills was 
not only grand but was weirdly beautiful as well. 

When we had passed Mabelle Island the hills seemed 
to close round us and were covered with tall, pointed ever- 
greens, so dark in colour as sometimes to seem almost 
black. Always these have been beautiful to me, with a 
mysterious kind of beauty which sends through me feel- 
ings akin to those I had when as a child I dreamed over 
the wonderful pictures the Frost King left in the night on 
the window panes. The river ahead was too rough to pro- 
ceed along the south shore, and the men decided to cross. 
It was very fearsome looking. Through a narrow opening 
in the hills farther up, the river came pouring from be- 
tween dark, perpendicular walls of the evergreen in a white, 
tossing rapid, widening again to one only less turbulent. 
A heavy cloud hung over us, throwing a deeper shade on 
the hills and turning the water black save for the white 
foam of the rapids, while down the narrow valley came a 
gale of hot wind like a blast from a furnace. We turned 
out into the river, and all paddled as if for life. The canoe 
danced among the swells, but in spite of our best efforts 
the rapid carried us swiftly down. It was a wild ride, 
though we reached the other shore in safety, and looking 
up the river I wondered what might be in store for us 
beyond that narrow gateway. When we passed it would 



DISASTER THREATENS DEFEAT 45 

the beyond prove as much hke Hades as this was sug- 
gestive of it? It seemed as if there we must find ourselves 
within the mysteries. 

After we landed, George turned, and in mildly approv- 
ing tone said: " I have seen lots of men who would jump 
out of the canoe if we tried to take them where you have 
been just now." 

Job's quick eye had seen that the canoes could be taken 
through the narrows on the north shore. And when this 
part of the river was passed all suggestion of Hades van- 
ished. There stretched before us Mountain Cat Lake, for 
beauty, a gem in its setting of hills. It was half a mile 
wide and two miles long. In the lower part were two small 
wooded islands, but the upper part was clear. Long spruce 
covered points reached out into its waters, which still flowed 
so swiftly that instead of paddling we poled along the 
shore. It was camping time when we reached the head of 
the lake, where the river comes down round a fine gravel 
point in a decided rapid. 

George remarked : " That would be a fine place for 
Sunday camp." 

" Then why not camp there ? " I asked. 

" Oh, no," he replied emphatically ; " that would not do 
at all. There would be no Sunday rest for me. I'd have 
to be watching you all the time to keep you away from 
that rapid." 

A little way up the river we came to another point which 



46 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

seemed even finer than the one at the head of the lake, 
and on this we made our Sunday camp. There was no 
noisy rapid here. On the opposite shore a long wooded 
hill sloped down to a point a mile above camp, round which 
the river came from the west. The sun was almost touching 
the hill-top, and below were low, gravel flats covered with 
fresh spring green and cut by little waterways, still as 
glass, and reflecting the sunset colours. In the river above 
us were small wooded islands, and away beyond them the 
blue ridges. It would have been beautiful at any time, 
but now in the calm evening, with the sunset light upon 
it, it was peculiarly so, and seemed in a special way to 
accord with the thought of the Sabbath rest. There was 
not a word spoken in reference to it, but about the men 
and in the way they did their work was something which 
made you feel how glad they were a resting time had 
come. 

When the outfit had been landed, and the canoes drawn 
up on shore, George walked up the bank a little way, and 
there, with folded arms, stood quite still for some time 
looking up the river. 

Presently I asked : " What are you thinking, George ? " 

" I was just thinking how proud I am of this river," 
he replied. 

It seemed luxurious on Sunday morning to be able to 
loiter over washing and dressing, to get into clean clothes, 
to read a little, and to look at the day itself. I had strained 



DISASTER THREATENS DEFEAT 47 

both feet the day before, and they were quite swollen, but 
did not hurt very much. My hands and face, too, were 
swollen and sore from the bites of the flies and mosquitoes. 
Having a rooted disHke to wearing a veil, I had deferred 
putting one on ; but it was plain now that Labrador flies 
were soon to overrule all objections. When breakfast was 
announced at 10.30 a.m. the men had been for a swim, and 
appeared shaved and in clean clothes — Joe and Gilbert 
in white moleskin trousers. Everything was done in lazy 
fashion. Everyone loitered. It was washing day for all, 
and by noon the bushes along the shore were decorated in 
spots in most unwonted fashion. Later, walking up the 
shore a little way I came upon Gilbert cutting Joe's hair. 

In the afternoon the men lay in the tent or on the bank 
under the trees reading their Bibles and singing very 
softly, almost as if afraid of disturbing the stillness of 
" the silent places," some of the fine old church hymns. 
A thunderstorm passed later, but it lasted only a short 
time, and the evening was fine. Job took a canoe and went 
up the river scouting. As we sat on the shore by the camp 
fire, after 9 p.m., and supper just ready, he came floating 
down again. The river carried him swiftly past us and he 
called " Good-b^^e, Good-bye." Then all at once the canoe 
turned and slipped in below the point. He reported the 
river rapid as far as he went or could see. 

Monday we started at 8.30 a.m., crossing to the other 
shore, where I walked along a bear trail on the flats, while 



48 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

the men brought the canoes up bj poling and tracking. 
The morning was wonderfully clear, and millions of dew- 
drops glistened on the low growth. The " country," or 
" Indian," tea which grew in abundance was in blossom, 
and the air was filled with fragrance. It seemed to me the 
most beautiful morning we had yet had. 

As the river grew more and more difficult part of the out- 
fit had to be portaged. Two miles above camp about half 
a load was put into one of the canoes, and slipping the 
noose of a tracking line round the bow George and Gilbert 
went forward with it, while Job and Joe got into the canoe 
to pole. Had it not been for my confidence in them I should 
have been anxious here, for the river was very rough, 
and close to shore, where they would have to go, was a 
big rock round which the water poured in a way that to 
me looked impassable. But I only thought, " They will 
know how to manage that," and picking up my kodaks I 
climbed up the bank to avoid the willows. I had just 
reached the top when looking round I saw the canoe turn 
bottom up like a flash, and both men disappeared. 

I stood unable to move. Almost immediately Joe came 
up. He had caught the tracking line and held to it. Then 
I saw Job appear. He had not been able to hold to the 
canoe. The current had swept him off, and was now carry- 
ing him down the river. My heart sickened at the sight, 
and still I could not move. Then an eddy caught him, and 
he went down out of sight again. Again he appeared, and 



DISASTER THREATENS DEFEAT 49 

this time closer to us, for the eddy had somehow thrown 
him in shore where the water was not so deep. He was on 
his back now and swimming a httle, but could neither get 
up nor turn over. I wondered why the men stood motionless 
watching him. Then it dawned on me that George was 
holding the canoe, and I found my voice to shout : " Run, 
Joe." Joe's own experience had for the moment dazed him, 
but now he suddenly came to Hfe. Springing forward, he 
waded out and caught Job's hand before he was carried into 
deep water again. As he felt himself safe in Joe's strong 
grasp, Job asked: "Where is Mrs. Hubbard? Is she all 
right.?" 

At first he did not seem able to get up, but when George, 
on reaching the canoe, turned it right side up, and to the 
utter astonishment of every one, it appeared that nearly 
the whole load was still in it — the sight revived Job. He 
got up and came ashore to the canoe, which was found stiU 
to contain the two tents, one rifle, my fishing-rod, the 
sextant, and artificial horizon, a box of baking-powder, a 
box of chocolate, my sweater, three of the men's coats, and 
one tarpaulin. It seemed nothing less than miraculous, for 
the little craft had been bottom up for several minutes. 
During the reckoning Job heartened rapidly, and was soon 
making a joke of the experience, though this did not hide 
the fact that he had been well shaken up. 

For a time thankfulness at the escape of the men, and 
that so much of the outfit had been saved, made me obliv- 



50 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

ious of everything else. Then gradually it came to the 
minds of the men what was missing, but it was some time 
before the list was complete, and I knew that we had lost 
all the axes, all the frying-pans, all the extra pole-shods, 
one pole, one paddle, the crooked knife, two pack-straps, 
one sponge, one tarpaulin, my stove, and Job's hat and 
pipe. The loss of the axes and the pole-shods was the most 
serious result of the accident, and I wondered how much 
that would mean, but had not the courage to ask the ques- 
tion. I feared the men would think they could not go on 
without the axes. 

Soon they began to upbraid themselves for putting both 
tents and all the axes into the same canoe; but there was 
no mention made of turning back. All seemed only thank- 
ful that no lives were lost. While Job and Joe were chang- 
ing their wet clothing, George and Gilbert, as quickly as 
possible, prepared lunch. Job, however, was very quiet 
during the meal, and ate almost nothing. Later, however, 
I could hear George and Joe in fits of laughter. Job was 
entertaining them with an account of his visit to the 
fishes. According to his story, he had a most wonderful 
time down there. 



CHAPTER V 

TO THE BEND OF THE RIVER 

Beyond this point our progress was slow and difficult. 
There were days when we made less than two miles, and 
these were the discouraging days for me, because there was 
ever hanging over me the thought of the necessity of 
reaching Ungava by the last week in August — if I meant 
to catch the ship there. However, by poling and tracking, 
by lifting and dragging the canoe through the shallow 
waters near the shore, or again by carrying the entire out- 
fit over the sand-hills or across boulder-strewn valleys, we 
won gradually forward. 

It frightened me often to see the men take their packs 
where they did. Sometimes it was over a great bed of 
boulders, where the reindeer moss was growing. This moss 
is a delicate grey-green colour, exquisitely beautiful in 
form as well, and as a background for the dark spruces is 
wonderfully effective. We found it growing luxuriantly 
almost everywhere, except in the burned districts, and in 
places it is six inches in height. When dry, it is brittle, 
and may be crumbled to powder in the hands, but when 
wet is very much the consistency of jelly, and just as slip- 

51 



52 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

pery. Through the wooded land the soil appeared to be 
simply a tangle of fallen and decayed tree-trunks grown 
over with thick moss of another variety, in which you 
sank ankle deep, while dark perilous looking holes yawned 
on every side, making you feel that if once you went in 
you might never appear again. Sometimes our way led 
along a fine bear trail on a sandy terrace where the wood 
growth was small and scattered, and where the walking 
was smooth, and even as that of a city street, but much 
softer and pleasanter. There were many bear trails through 
this lower Nascaupee country, though we did not again see 
any bears, and one might actually think the trails had been 
chosen with an eye to beauty. The woods were very fine, 
the spruces towering far above us straight as arrows. They 
were, many of them, splendid specimens of their kind, and 
one I measured was nine feet in circumference. Here and 
there some balsam was found among the spruces. These 
were true virgin forests, but their extent was limited to 
the narrow river valleys. Out beyond, the hill-tops rose 
treeless and barren. 

On the portages the outfit was taken forward by short 
stages, and I had a good deal of waiting to do. The men 
did not like to leave me alone lest I might possibly encoun- 
ter a bear, and I had many warnings to keep my rifle ready, 
and not to leave my waiting-place. Secretly I rather hoped 
a bear would come along for I thought I could manage 
him if he did not take me unawares. 



TO THE BEND OF THE RIVER 53 

Besides the interest of watching for the bear I hoped 
to meet, I had, while we travelled in the more open parts, 
the hills both up and down the river to look at, and they 
were very beautiful with their ever-changing colour. 
Mount Sawyer and Mount Elizabeth were behind us now, 
and away ahead were the blue ridges of hills with one high 
and barren, standing out above the rest, which I named 
Bald Jlountain. I wondered much what we should find 
there. What we did find was a very riotous rapid and a 
very beautiful Sunday camp. 

Waiting in the lower wooded parts was not as pleasant. 
Once I announced my intention of setting up my fishing- 
rod and going down to the river to fish, while the rest 
of the outfit was being brought up. Sudden consternation 
overspread the faces of the men. In a tone of mingled 
alarm, disapproval, suspicion, George exclaimed : " Yes ; 
that is just what I was afraid you would be doing. I think 
you had better sit right down there by the rifles. There 
are fresh bear tracks about here, and Job says they run 
down there by the river." 

I could not help laughing at the alarm I had created, 
but obediently sat down on the pile of outfit by the rifles, 
strongly suspecting, however, that the bear tracks were 
invented, and that the real fear was on account of the river. 
It began to be somewhat irksome to be so well taken care 
of. 

The mosquitoes and flies were now coming thick and 



54 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

fast. I thought them very bad, but George insisted that 
you could not even call this a beginning. I wore a veil of 
black silk net, but the mesh was hardly fine enough, and 
the flies managed to crawl through. They would get their 
heads in and then kick and struggle and twist till they 
were all through, when they immediately proceeded to work. 
The men did not seem to care to put their veils on even 
when not at work, and I wondered how they could take 
the little torments so calmly. 

On the morning of July 6th we reached the Seal Islands 
expansion. Around these islands the river flows with such 
force and swiftness that the water can be seen to pile up 
in ridges in the channel. Here we found Donald Blake's 
tilt. Donald is Gilbert's brother, and in winter they trap 
together up the Nascaupee valley as far as Seal Lake, 
which lies 100 miles from Northwest River post. Often in 
imagination I had pictured these little havens so far in the 
wilderness and lonely, and now I had come to a real one. 
It was a tiny log building set near the edge of the river 
bank among the spruce trees. Around it lay a thick bed 
of chips, and scattered about were the skeletons of martens 
of last winter's catch. One had to stoop a good deal to get 
in at the narrow doorway. It was dark, and not now an 
attractive-looking place; yet as thought flew back to the 
white wilderness of a few months before, the trapper and 
his long, solitary journeys in the relentless cold, with at last 
the wolfish night closing round him, it made all diff*erent, 



TO THE BEND OF THE RIVER 55 

and one realised a little how welcome must have seemed 
the thought and the sight of the tiny shelter. 

In the tilt there was no window and no floor. All the 
light came in through the doorway and a small hole in the 
roof, meant to admit the stove pipe. Hanging on the cross 
beams were several covered pails containing rice, beans, 
flour, lard, and near them a little cotton bag with a few 
candles in it. Thrown across a beam was a piece of deer- 
skin dressed for making or mending snow-shoes ; and on a 
nail at the farther end was a little seal-skin pouch in which 
were found needle, thread, and a few buttons. A bunk was 
built into the side of the room a few feet above the 
ground, and lying in it an old tent. Beside a medley heap 
of other things piled there, we found a httle Testament and 
a book of Gospel Songs. The latter the men seemed greatly 
pleased to find, and carried it away with them. We took 
the candles also, and filled one pail with lard, leaving one 
of the pieces of bacon in its place. Already we were re- 
gretting that we had no lard or candles with us. They 
had been cut out of the list when we feared the canoes 
would not hold all the outfit, and later I had forgotten to 
add them. The men were hungry for fried cakes, and the 
lard meant a few of these as a treat now and then. 

Gilbert had hoped to find an axe here, but although 
he hunted everywhere there was none to be found. He did, 
however, get his little frying-pan and a small pail which 
made a welcome addition to our depleted outfit. 



56 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

That day we portaged nearly all the afternoon. It was 
rough, hard walking, and occasional showers fell which 
made it worse. There was many a wistful glance cast across 
to the other shore where we could see a fine sand terrace. 
There the walking must be smooth and easy ; but we could 
not cross, the rapids were too heavy. 

During the afternoon we found the first and only fresh 
caribou tracks seen in the lower Nascaupee valley. A pair 
of fish eagles, circling high above us, screamed their dis- 
approval of our presence there. We saw their nest at the 
very top of a dead spruce stub, some sixty feet or more 
above the ground. This was one of the very many things 
on the trip which made me wish I were a man. I could have 
had a closer look at the nest ; I think I could have taken a 
photograph of it too. Now and then came the sweet, plain- 
tive song of the white-throated sparrow. 

Towards evening it began to rain fast, and as if with 
the intention of keeping at it; so George called a halt. 
As I sat down on a pile of outfit he opened up the men's 
tent, and, spreading it over me, directed me to wait there 
till my own was ready. George's tone of authority was 
sometimes amusing. Sometimes I did as I was told, and 
then again I did not. This time I did, and with my rifle 
on one side and my fishing-rod on the other, to hold the 
tent up, I sat and watched them making camp and build- 
ing the fire. 

All day the mosquitoes and flies had been bad, but now 



TO THE BEND OF THE RIVER 57 

the rain had coaxed them out in redoubled force, and they 
were dreadful. I could feel how swollen my neck and ears 
were, and wondered how I looked; but I was rather glad 
that I had no mirror with me, and so could not see. Now 
and then I had spoken of my suspicions as to what a re- 
markable spectacle I must present. George, manlike, always 
insisted that I looked " just right " ; but that night, in an 
unguarded moment, he agreed with me that it was a good 
thing I had not brought a mirror. For the first time we 
went into a wet camp. 

It poured steadily all day Friday, and we did not at- 
tempt to go forward. I slept again after breakfast, and 
then did some mending, made veils, and studied a little. 
It was very cold and dismal ; but the cold was always wel- 
come, for it kept the flies and mosquitoes quiet. Our camp 
was on high ground, and from the open front of my tent 
I could look down over a steep bank thirty feet to the 
river, racing past with its ceaseless roar. Sometimes I 
wished I could reach out and stop it just for a minute, and 
then let it go again. I wished rainy days might not come 
often, though I fully expected that they would. About 3 
P.M. I heard a stir outside and going out found George 
and Gilbert making a fire. It was not so simple a matter 
now without an axe. The small stuiF had to be broken, and 
then whole trees were dragged bodily to the spot and laid 
on to be burned off a piece at a time. When fallen stuff 
was scarce, standing dead trees were by hard labour pushed 



58 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

over and brought in. The big fire felt very good that day. 

It was not raining quite so fast now, and after dinner I 
sat watching George while he mended my moccasin where 
the mice had eaten it, and sewed the moleskin cartridge 
pouch to my leather belt. He finished putting the pouch 
on, and handed the belt back to me with a satisfied smile. 
Instead of taking it I only laughed at him, when he dis- 
covered he had put the pistol-holster and knife-sheath on 
wrong side first. There was no help for it ; it had to come 
off again, for the sheaths would not slip over either buckle 
or pouch. I comforted him with the assurance that it was 
good he should have something to do to keep him out of 
mischief. When the mistake had been remedied he showed 
me how to make a rabbit-snare. Then the rain drove me to 
my tent again, and I had supper there while the men 
made bannocks. It was horrid to eat in the tent alone. 

The barometer was now rising steadily, and I went to 
sleep with high hopes of better weather in the morning. 
When I awoke the sun was shining on the hills across the 
river. How welcome the sight was ! Everything was still 
wet though, and we did not break camp till after dinner. 
I did some washing and a little mending. The mice had 
eaten a hole in a small waterproof bag in which I carried 
my dishes, dish-towel, and bannock, and I mended it with 
some tent stuff. An electrician's tape scheme, which I had 
invented for mending a big rent in my rubber shirt, did not 



TO THE BEND OF THE RIVER 59 

work, and so I mended that too with tent stuff. How I did 
hate these times of inactivity. 

It was one o'clock when we started forward again, and 
all afternoon the portaging was exceedingly rough, mak- 
ing it slow, hard work getting the big pile of stuff for- 
ward. To add to the difficulties, a very boisterous little 
river had to be bridged, and when evening came we had 
gone forward only a short distance. We had come to a 
rather open space, and here the men proposed making 
camp. Great smooth-worn boulders lay strewn about as if 
flung at random from some giant hand. A dry, black, leaf- 
like substance patched their surfaces, and this George told 
me is the wakwanapsk which the Indians in their extrem- 
ity of hunger use for broth. Though black and leaflike 
when mature, it is, in its beginning, like a disk of tiny 
round green spots, and from this it gets its name. Wok- 
wuk — fish-roe ; wanapisk — a rock. 

It was a very rough place, very desolate looking, and 
far from the river. It made me shudder to think of spend- 
ing Sunday there. So the men were persuaded to try to 
reach the head of the rapid, which was three-quarters of 
a mile farther on, taking forward only the camp stuff. 
We were now travelling along the foot of Bald Mountain 
seen from the hill on Monday, and passing what is known 
by the trappers as North Pole Rapid, which was the 
wildest of the rapids so far. The travelling was still rough, 



60 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

and the men were in a hurry. I could not keep up at all. 
George wanted to carry my rifle for me, but I would not 
let him. I was not pleased with him just then. 

We reached the head of the rapid, and it was beautiful 
there. A long terrace stretched away for miles ahead. It 
was thinly wooded, as they all were, with spruce and a few 
poplars, smooth, dry, and mossy, and thirty feet below 
us was the river with North Pole Brook coming in on the 
other side. It was an ideal place for Sunday camp. 

Though it rained hard through the night the morning 
was beautiful, and again I breathed a little sigh of thank- 
fulness that we were not in the other desolate place farther 
back. The day would have been a very restful one had it 
not been for the flies which steadily increased in numbers, 
coaxed back to life and activity by the warm sunshine. I 
wanted very much to climb the mountain behind our camp 
in the afternoon, but I could not go alone, and the men 
were taking a much needed rest. So I wandered about 
watching the hills and the river for a while, took a few 
photographs, and lay in the tent. Towards evening the 
flies swarmed over its fly front, getting in in numbers — 
one could not tell where or how. Still they were nothing 
inside to what they were outside. At supper I hated to put 
up my veil. They were so thick I could hardly eat. Finally 
George came to the rescue, and waving a bag round my 
head kept them off" till I finished my meal. 

While we were at supper Job walked silently into camp 



TO THE BEND OF THE RIVER 61 

with a rifle under his arm. He had a way of quietly dis- 
appearing. You did not know anything about it till you 
found he was not there. Then suddenly he would appear 
again, his eyes shining. He had wonderfuly fine eyes, so 
bright that they startled me sometimes. Full of energy, 
quick, clever, he went straight to the point in his work 
always without the slightest hesitation. When you saw 
these men in the bush you needed no further explanation 
of their air of quiet self-confidence. 

Job had been up as far as the bend of the river where 
we were to leave the Nascaupee for the trappers' cross coun- 
try route to Seal Lake. A little above this bend the Nas- 
caupee becomes impassable. It was three miles away, but 
Job reported, " Fine portage all the way to brook." 

It was just four next morning when I heard voices at 
the other tent. Then all was quiet again. At six the men 
went past with loads. They had brought up the outfit that 
was left behind on Saturday. The day was fine, and we 
made good progress. George said: " Oh, it's just fun with 
this kind of portaging." It was nevertheless hot, hard 
work. I felt resentful when I looked at the river. It was 
smooth, and appeared altogether innocent of any extraor- 
dinary behaviour; yet for the whole three miles above 
North Pole Rapid it flowed without a bend so swift and 
deep that nothing could be done on it in the canoes. 

All day the flies were fearful. For the first time George 
admitted that so far as flies were concerned it began to 



62 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

seem like Labrador. We ate lunch with smudges burning 
on every side, and the fire in the middle. I was willing that 
day almost to choke with smoke to escape flies ; but there 
was no escape. In spite of the smudges there were twenty 
dead flies on my plate when I had finished lunch, to say 
nothing of those lying dead on my dress of the large num- 
ber I had killed. I had to stop caring about seeing them 
in the food; I took out what could be seen, but did not let 
my mind dwell on the probability of there being some I 
did not see. When drinking, even while the cup was held 
to my lips, they flew into it as if determined to die. Their 
energy was unbounded, and compelled admiration even 
while they tortured me. How the men endured them with- 
out veils and without words I could not understand. 

For more than two miles above our camp we kept to a 
fine bear trail. The walking could not have been better, and 
was in sharp contrast with what the trail had led us over 
for the last few days. Then we turned to the right and 
climbed to another plain above, beyond which rose the 
mountain. 

A bear trail led along the edge of the terrace, and while 
the men carried I waited hopefully, rifle in hand. Ever 
since our bear chase back near Grand Lake my imagination 
turned every black spot I saw on the hills into a bear, to 
the great amusement of the men. But no bear appeared. 

Soon mist gathered on the hills, and the specks on the 
plain below began to move faster and grow larger. Job 



TO THE BEND OF THE RIVER 63 

led the way with a canoe. He stopped to rest at the foot 
of the bank, while George came past and up to the top 
at great speed. 

" The showers are coming. We shall have to hurry or 
you will get wet," he said. 

Every day my admiration and respect for the men grew. 
They were gentle and considerate, not only of me, but of 
each other as well. They had jolly good times together, 
and withal were most efficient. Gilbert was proving a great 
worker, and enjoyed himself much with the men. He was 
just a merry, happy-hearted boy. Joe was quiet and 
thoughtful, with a low, rather musical voice, and a pretty, 
soft Scotch accent for all his Russian name. He spoke 
English quite easily and well. Job did not say much in 
English. He was very reserved where I was concerned. I 
wanted to ask him a thousand questions, but I did not dare. 
George was always the gentle, fun-loving, sunny-tempered 
man my husband had admired. 

Our camp was perhaps 100 feet above the river which 
here came down from the northeast round the foot of 
Bald Mountain, and less than half a mile below us bent 
away to the southeast. At the bend a tributary stream 
came in from the northwest to merge itself in the stronger 
tide, and together they flowed straight on at the foot of a 
long, dark-wooded ridge. Here at this stream our portage 
route led out from the river. 

When the showers had passed we had supper, and as 



64 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

we sat at our meal the sun came out again, throwing a 
golden glow over all. Clouds lay like delicate veils along the 
hill-sides, sometimes dipping almost to their feet. Walking 
back along the edge of the terrace I watched till they 
gathered thick again and darkness came down over all. It 
was very wild and beautiful, but as an exquisite, loved form 
from which the spirit has fled. The sense of life, of mys- 
tery, and magic seemed gone, and I wondered if the time 
could come when beauty would cease to be pain. 

When I returned to camp the men had gone to their 
tent. A tiny fire was still burning, and I sat watching it 
till the rain came and drove me to my little shelter again. 



CHAPTER VI 

CROSS COUNTRY TO SEAL LAKE WATERS 

It was still raining Tuesday morning, and camp was not 
moved till afternoon, when we crossed the river. Though 
smooth here, it flowed with fearful rapidity, and in mid- 
stream carried the canoe, as if it had been a feather, at 
locomotive speed. Three-quarters of a mile above where we 
crossed the course of the river bent away to the east, 
and we could see the water leaping and tossing in a wild 
rapid as it came round through the opening in the hills. I 
had a great wash to see the fifteen miles of it which flows 
between this point and Seal Lake. I would have given 
much not to have to leave the river at all, but above that 
point it could not be travelled in the canoes, and I dared 
not take the time to portage which indeed would also have 
been impossible. 

The region we were now to traverse, I learned from 
Gilbert, was great marten country, and so I named the 
tributary stream we followed, Wapustan ^ River. Our way 
led along a continuation of the river terrace we had trav- 
elled since leaving the head of North Pole Rapid. During 

1 Marten. 
65 



66 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

the earliest part of that day's march it was particularly 
hard work to get over the windfalls. At first it seemed as 
if I could not; but after a struggle they were passed, and 
we had again a bear trail to follow. On the way we passed 
great beds of blossoming cloudberries, which with blossoms 
of the bunchberry, the Labrador tea, and the pale laurel, 
made up the list of flowers found so far. Towards evening 
we stopped to make camp at the edge of rougher country, 
a mile and a quarter up the Wapustan. The map grew 
slowly during these days, and the desire to reach Seal 
Lake grew stronger and stronger. 

Near the camp was a big boulder, and lying round and 
over it were numbers of wigwam poles. They were very 
old, and looked as if it might have been many years since 
they had been used. George said it was a winter camp. 
In the winter time the Indians, in making their camps, 
dig down into the snow to a rock to build their fire. At a 
number of places on our journey we found poles lying 
round a boulder in this way. 

When camp was nearly made. Job came in triumphantly 
waving an axe over his head. He and Joe had taken some 
of the outfit forward as far as Duncan M'Lean's tilt, and 
there had found an axe. There was great rejoicing over 
it. Job said he should carry the axe with the sugar after 
this. 

I had been shooting at an owl that afternoon — from a 
distance that made it quite safe for the owl ; and while the 



SEAL LAKE WATERS 67 

men prepared supper I cleaned mj revolver. I was greasing 
it and putting some of the grease into the barrel when 
George said : " Don't put too much grease in it. If you put 
too much in the bullet will just slip and — " 

" Might kill something," I finished for him. 

Then came George's rare laugh. It is like a baby's in 
that it expresses such complete abandon of amusement. 

Presently he asked : " When you were shooting at that 
bear the other day, where did you aim.? " 

"Oh, any place," I replied; "just at the bear." Peals 
of uncontrolled laughter greeted this announcement and 
cooking operations were, for the time being, suspended. 
When they were able to go on with the preparations for 
supper I could now and then hear them laughing quietly 
to themselves. 

Bed seemed specially good that night, for I was very 
tired. How long I had been asleep I could not tell; but 
some time in the night I was awakened by sounds outside 
my tent, as of someone or something walking about. At 
first I thought it was one of the men; but presently 
decided it was not, and became very wide awake. I thought 
about the bear trail, but did not quite believe it was the 
bear either. Presently something shook the branches of the 
tree my tent was tied to, and they rattled fearfully on the 
tent close to my head. I sprang up, and as I reached for 
my revolver remembered that there were only two cartridges 
in it. Quickly filling the empty chambers I waited, ready to 



68 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

give battle to whatever it might be ; but the sounds in mj 
tent evidently alarmed the intruder, for there was silence 
outside after that. I w^as a good deal disturbed for a 
while, but growing calm again I finally went to sleep. In 
the morning the men said it was probably a rabbit jump- 
ing through the low branches of the spruce tree. 

We made a mile and a half that day, and towards 
evening halted at the edge of a pretty little expansion 
in the river ; it was the most charming camp we had yet 
found. There were a number of tiny islands here, some with 
a few trees, and some just the bare rock with fringes of 
fresh green marking the fissures. The water slipped over 
ledges into pretty pools, and from our camp to the other 
side there was a distinct downward slope. My tent was 
pitched about four feet from the water's edge above a 
little fall, and directly over an otter landing. 

George warned me, " You will have to keep your boots 
on to-night. That otter might come along and get hold 
of your toes, and drag you into the river." 

"Would an otter really harm me?" I asked. 

" Perhaps it might be a bear instead of an otter," he 
replied, evading my question. " They are all great fel- 
lows for any kind of metal. If it's a bear he'll just get 
hold of that screw on your bed and take it right off. 
You'd better put a bullet inside, and then when he takes 
off the screw it will blow into his mouth. He'll think a 
fly flew down his throat, and cough. Then you could 



SEAL LAKE WATERS 69 

run." George's eyes were dancing with amusement at his 
own pictures. Presently he went on : "I think — oh ! you 
keep a rifle in there though, don't you.^ " 

" Yes." 

" Don't you think you could handle salt a little better 
than a rifle.?" 

This was insulting ; but I was laughing too heartily to 
be properly indignant, and he continued : " You might 
put a Httle salt on his tail. Maybe you could put that 
otter out of business, too, if you had enough salt." 

A duck flew past, dropping into the water a little way 
above our camp, and George sprang for a rifle. He shot, 
but missed, which I assured him was only proper punish- 
ment for the slighting insinuations he had made in regard 
to my shooting. Job and Joe went fishing after supper — 
but got nothing. It was a fine evening with a glorious 
sunset, beautiful evening sky, and a splendid moon. George 
said : " Fine day and fine breeze to-morrow." 

My sleep was not disturbed that night by either bear or 
otter, and we were up and started on our way the next 
morning at 7.30. A rough portage of three-quarters of a 
mile was completed some time before noon, and beyond 
this the canoes were kept in the water most of the day. 
At lunch Gilbert brought me a dandelion. I was greatly 
pleased to get it, and later I saw several of them. I found 
also blue and white violets, one of the blue ones a variety 
I had never seen before. 



70 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Towards evening the hills had melted away. We had 
come up to the top of those which, twenty miles back, had 
looked high, and now we could look back and down to 
those which there had also seemed high. A new thrill came 
with this being up among the hill-tops, and I began to 
feel like an explorer. 

The tents were pitched near a pool of smooth water, 
deep and darkened by shadows of the evergreens on either 
shore. On the farther side of the river were low, wooded 
hills, and opposite our camp a brook came tumbling 
through the wall of evergreens into the river. Just above 
the brook a high, dead stub, with a big blaze on it, showed 
where we were to leave the Wapustan to cross to Seal Lake. 

It was not until noon on Saturday, July 15th, that we 
left our pretty camp, for it rained steadily in the mean- 
time. Then we started on our cross-country trip, working 
up to the north, from w^hich direction the brook flows. A 
two-mile carry brought us out on Saturday evening to a 
lake at its head. After dinner on Sunday we again went 
forward with a whole mile of paddling to cheer us on our 
way. From the head of the lake another mile of good 
portaging brought us at last to waters flowing to Seal 
Lake, and we were again in the canoes to taste for a little 
the pleasures of going with the tide. For long we had 
been going against it — and such a tide ! 

Our way now led through three exquisitely beautiful 



SEAL LAKE WATERS 71 

little lakes, to where their waters drop down over rocky 
ledges in a noisy stream, on their way to the lake we were 
trying to reach. Here on the left of the outlet we made 
our camp. On either side rose a high hill only recently 
burned over — last summer Gilbert said. George, Gilbert 
and I climbed the hill back of our camp in hopes of catch- 
ing a first glimpse of Seal Lake, but we could not see it. 
What we did see was very fine, and I stood watching it for 
some time after the others had gone back to camp. East- 
ward the great hills rose rugged and irregular, and farther 
away in the blue distance the range lying beyond Seal 
Lake, all touched to beauty by the evening light. 

Slipping down the hill again, I reached camp just as 
the supper was ready, and after our meal George, Job, Gil- 
bert, and I crossed to climb the hill on the other side, 
which rose 540 feet above our camp. It was 7.45 p.m. 
when we started; but a brisk climb brought us to the top 
in time to see the sunset, and one of the most magnificent 
views I had ever beheld. Some miles to the east was the 
lake winding like a broad river between its hills. In every 
direction there were hills, and lying among them little 
lakes that were fairy-like in their beauty. George pointed 
out the ridge of mountains away to the southwest which 
he had crossed with Mr. Hubbard, and where he thought 
they had crossed it from the head of Beaver Brook, their 
" Big River," and I named them Lion Heart Mountains. 

The wind below cold on the mountain, and a shower 



72 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

passed over from the northeast; but it was soon gone, and 
the sun set over the hills in a blaze of red and gold. The 
way down seemed long, but when we reached camp at 10.15 
P.M. it was still quite light. Joe had been fishing, and had 
four brook trout for my breakfast. Job and Gilbert had 
gone down the valley prospecting, and soon came in with 
the information that a mile below camp we could put our 
canoes into the water. Beyond, there would be two short 
portages, and then we should not again have to take them 
out of the water before reaching Seal Lake. 

After I went to my tent there floated out into the quiet 
night the sound of the men's favourite hymns, " Lead 
Kindly Light," "There is a Green Hill Far Away," 
" Abide With Me," and, as always, the singing ended with 
their Indian " Paddling Song." When I put out my light 
at 11 P.M., a full moon was throwing shadows of the 
spruce boughs on my tent. 

The view from the mountain-top seemed an inspiration 
to the party, and on Monday morning, shortly after four, 
I heard Job's axe making ready for the early breakfast. 
By 5.30 A.M. they were off with their first packs. Then 
all was quiet again. The tiny mirror-like lake was yet in 
shadow though sunlight touched the tops of its encircling 
hills, and I wished that I might wait, till it was time for 
me to go, on the summit of the one we had climbed last 
night. When the last load was ready I, too, went forward. 

It was a glorious morning, with just such sunshine as 



SEAL LAKE WATERS 73 

one would wish for a day so eventful. The trail led down 
into a valley opening eastward to Seal Lake, and walled 
in on three sides by the hills. On either hand reaching up 
their steep slopes were the spruce woods with beautiful 
white birches relieving their sombreness, and above — the 
sheer cliifs. A network of little waterways gave back images 
of delicate tamaracks ^ growing on long points between. 
Not a leaf stirred, and silence, which is music, reigned 
there. The valley was flooded with golden light, seeming 
to hold all in a mysterious stillness, the only motion the 
rapids ; the only sound their singing, with now and again 
the clear call of a bird. 

After reaching the point where the canoes could again 
be launched, it was but a few minutes till we were in the 
rapids. They seem very innocent to me now, but then run- 
ning rapids was a new experience, and it was tremendously 
exciting as the canoes sped down the current, the men shout- 
ing to each other as we went. 

Two more short portages, which led down over a fine 
bear trail cut deep into the white moss ; two brisk little 
runs in the canoes, and we reached smooth water, where, 
rounding the last bend in the brook, we could look straight 
away eastward into Seal Lake. A little way below the bend 
our brook joined a river, coming down from the north- 
west, which the trappers call Thomas River. 

The lake was little more than a mile wide where we en- 
1 Larches. 



74 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

tered it, and extended southward nearly two miles. Gil- 
bert pointed out the opening in the hills to the southwest 
where the Nascaupee River leaves the lake, and I had 
George and Job paddle across that I might see it. A con- 
tinuation of the hills, south of the valley we had passed in 
the morning, swung round the south shore of the lake and 
culminated in what I called Santa Claus Mountain ; for the 
outline of its rugged top looked as if the tired old fellow 
had there lain down to rest, that he might be ready to start 
out again on his long winter journey. I knew then that 
the beautiful valley, through which we had just passed, 
must be that vale where his fairies dance when it is moon- 
light. 

About the outlet the country was wild and rugged, and 
from the point where the river leaves the lake the water 
breaks into a tossing foaming rapid. According to the 
trappers, the river from this point to Bald Mountain rushes 
down a continuous rocky slope, the hills in many places ris- 
ing perpendicular from its edge. 

Turning again we passed northward up the lake. It 
proved to be a succession of lake expansions, narrowing 
in one part, where it is bordered by the cliffs, and the cur- 
rent is very rapid. The lake is surrounded by hills of solid 
rock, some of those on the west arising abrupt and separate, 
one. Mount Pisa, distinctly leaning towards the east. Much 
of the surrounding country has been burned over, being 




JOE 



SEAL LAKE WATEUS 75 

now grown up with white birch and poplar, and at the 
narrows the angles in the cliiFs are marked by lines of 
slender birch reaching from the water's edge to the sum- 
mit. A short distance above, two large brooks enter from 
the east. Many of the long, low points which reach out 
into the lake are spruce covered, but away on the hills 
could be seen only the more delicate green of the birch and 
poplar. There are a number of islands lying mainly near 
the shore; and from its northern extremity an arm, which 
according to the trappers is thirty miles long, stretches 
away to the west. The river enters the lake round a low, 
sandy point, and about the inlet the country is lower 
and less rugged. On the way up we saw several seals. 
Gulls, ducks, and geese were there in numbers, and muskrats 
were plentiful. 

It was after 7 p.m. when we went into camp, having 
made nineteen miles since morning, and every foot of the 
way we had been surrounded by scenes of exquisite beauty ; 
for Seal Lake in the calm of a summer day, with the sum- 
mer sunshine upon it, and the beautiful Labrador sky 
above, is altogether lovely. When the day's journey ended 
I had seen so much that was beautiful, and so varied in 
its beauty, that I felt confused and bewildered. I had, too, 
not only seen Seal Lake, I had seen the Nascaupee River 
flowing out of it ; our camp was on the sand-point where 
the river enters it ; and, best of all, there came the full 



76 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

realisation that / was first in the ' field, and the honour 
of exploring the Nascaupee and the George Rivers was 
to fall to me. 

It was Monday, July 17th, three weeks less a day since 
we had left Northwest River post. According to the daily 
estimates about one hundred and fifteen miles of our jour- 
ney had been accomplished, and now our next objective 
point was Lake Michikamau. 



CHAPTER VII 

OFF FOR MICHIKAMAU 

It was well for me that a mind at rest, on at least one very 
important point, was my portion that night, else the night- 
long fight with the mosquitoes had been horrible indeed. 
They seemed to come out of the ground. When despair 
of getting any sleep had taken possession of me, I turned 
with such calmness as I could muster to the task of killing 
them off. By diligent application I hoped in the end to 
secure a little respite. To interest myself I began to count 
my kill; but when it had reached one hundred and fifty, 
and yet they came, I gave it up. I was still busy when the 
morning light came to reveal hundreds of the vicious little 
beasts clinging to the slope of my tent. 

At breakfast I learned that the men had fared little 
better. Usually they had the advantage of me where mos- 
quitoes were concerned, for with four pipes going in the 
tent the mosquitoes had little chance ; but that night pipes 
were of no avail, and there, too, the mosquitoes were mas- 
ter of the situation. 

On Tuesday it rained, and we did not break camp till the 
following morning, when at 9 a.m. we were off for Lake 

77 



7S THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Michikamau. Travelling was now much less difficult than 
it had been, though the river continued rapid. Our course, 
a few miles above Seal Lake, turned directly west, and as 
we entered Lake Wachesknipi high hills appeared ahead, 
showing deepest blue and purple under the cloudy sky. 
Again we made nineteen miles, taking on the way one part- 
ridge, two geese, and a muskrat, and camping in the even- 
ing at the foot of Red Rock Hill. Here we were destined to 
remain for two days on account of storms of wind and 
rain. 

How I disliked the rainy days, for I was not very pa- 
tient of delay. There was little one could do in camp, and 
lounging in a tent when you are not tired has few redeem- 
ing features. 

After noon on Thursday Job set off to climb the hill. 
In the evening when I went out to supper the ground under 
the tarpaulins, which were strung up for shelter on either 
side of the fire, was covered with fresh cut shavings. Job 
had returned, and was carefully putting the finishing 
touches to a new axe handle. He said he had been up among 
the clouds, and reported two heavy rapids and a little lake 
a few miles ahead. 

The following afternoon, albeit it was still raining, the 
men prepared to climb the hill again, and I wanted to go 
too. Job, however, assured me that it would be impossible 
as the hill was altogether too steep and slippery. I was 
much disappointed. It seemed such an ignominious sort 



OFF FOR MICHIKAMAU 79 

of thing too, to be an explorer, and have one of my party 
tell me I could not do something he had already done, and 
was about to do again, just for the mere pleasure of it. 

That it might not be too trying I had George go with 
me in the canoe up to the rapids. The first one, Seal Rapid, 
was almost three miles above our camp, and it came down 
from the west swinging to the south round a high sand- 
point and entering a small lake expansion. We landed at 
the head of a little bay south of the point, and crossed 
to see the rapids. They were very wild and fine, but for- 
tunately they did not extend far, and about three-quarters 
of a mile of portaging would put us on smooth water again. 
Here for the first time we found the rocks along the shore 
and in the river-bed of varied and beautiful colours. There 
were among them red and green and blue of many and 
exquisite shades — the greens being particularly beautiful. 
From near the head of the bay several small lakes extended 
westward, and through these we thought the Indians prob- 
ably made their portages. It was quite late when we re- 
turned to camp, the journey back being a rather hard 
paddle against a strong head wind. The men had already 
returned from the hill, bringing a few partridges with 
them. 

It was nearly midday on Saturday when we left Red 
Rock Camp, and the rain was still falling a little ; but the 
prospects were for a fine evening and a dry camp, so it 
was decided to push on as already we had been delayed 



80 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

more than half the week. Soon the rain ceased, and, passing 
the portages round Seal and Cascade Rapids, we found 
ourselves on smooth water again. The sky cleared as we 
proceeded, and an occasional gleam of sunshine lent its 
charm to the scenes of quiet beauty through which we were 
passing. The river was soft and smooth as satin, with a 
slightly raised cushion-like appearance, that I had never 
noticed on smooth water before. 

About the middle of the afternoon, as we rounded a 
bend of the river, we saw far ahead on the low drift shore, 
five large black objects close to the water's edge. There 
could be but one animal of such size and colour in this re- 
gion, and I became quite stirred up over the prospect of an 
encounter with what looked like a bear picnic. I watched 
eagerly as we approached, rather wondering how we were 
going to manage five of them, when in a most inexplicable 
manner they dwindled suddenly, and my five bears had be- 
come as many ducks. It was the first time I had ever seen 
so striking an example of mirage. We secured three of 
the transformed bears, and on Sunday morning had stewed 
duck and fresh bannocks for breakfast. 

Owing to the enforced rest through the week we decided 
to go forward on Sunday. After a late breakfast the task 
of loading the outfit into the canoes was not yet complete 
when Gilbert was heard to exclaim : " What's that ? A 
duck? No, it's a deer." 

Immediately all was excitement. Up in the little lake 



OFF FOR MICHIKAMAU 81 

above our camp a caribou was swimming across to the 
north shore. The movement in camp suddenly became elec- 
trical. The last of the load was thrown into the canoe. I 
stepped in as George cut the rope, which tied it to the 
willows, and we were off. 

I was much excited at first, especially as the caribou was 
a long distance away, and I was sure he would reach land 
before we could come near enough to shoot him. He was 
almost ashore, and in my thought I saw him bounding up 
over the hills away out of our reach, and was glad. When 
George took the rifle to shoot I was not in the least afraid 
for the caribou, because I knew he would not be hit — 
and he was not. But, Alas ! I soon learned that it was not 
meant he should be. The bullet dropped, as it was intended 
to, in front of him, frightened him, and turned him back 
into the lake. My heart sickened as I reahsed what it 
meant. He was so near to safety. If he had only gone on. 
If he had only known. 

The men were now almost lifting the canoe with every 
stroke of the paddles, and she threw the water from her 
bows like a little steamer. We were soon up with the cari- 
bou, and I pulled my hat down over my eyes while the deed 
was done. We were so close that George thought he would 
try to kill him with his pistol. When I looked up, after the 
first shot, the caribou was ploughing through the water 
just as before. After the second I could see him trembling 
and blood on the water — but he was still going on. Then 



82 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

I asked George to take his rifle and settle the matter 
quickly. He did, and the sound of the water as the caribou 
made his way through it ceased. I did not need to look 
again to know what had happened. He was towed ashore, 
skinned and dressed, but how I wished I could think of him 
as speeding over his native hills, rather than as he was. 
Yet, too, I knew it was well for us that we had secured the 
supply of fresh meat, for although we had considerably 
more than half the original supply of provisions, we were 
still far from the journey's end. 

It was a three-year-old stag. Job said, and when the 
operation of skinning and cutting up had been performed, 
we had about 250 lbs. of fresh meat added to our supply. 

The day was now fine, though occasional light showers 
passed; but these rather added to the beauty all about us 
than otherwise. The river was proving a succession of lake 
expansions, for the most part not more than half a mile 
wide. Rugged, barren mountains rose in all directions, and 
I had the feeling of being up among the hill-tops, as if 
these were not whole hills, but only their tops. The trip 
was proving so beautiful and easy that my state of mind 
was one of continued surprise. I had none of the feeling 
of loneliness, which I knew every one would expect me to 
have. I did not feel far from home, but in reality less 
homeless than I had ever felt anywhere, since I knew my 
husband was never to come back to me. So far I had en- 
countered none of the real stress of wilderness life, every- 



SKINNING THE CARIBOU 



THE FALL 



OFF FOR MICHIKAMAU 83 

thing had gone well with us, everything was made easy for 
me ; I had had no hardships to bear, and there was the 
relief of work to do, work which would for ever associate 
my husband's name with the country where he hoped to be- 
gin his explorations. For long months of darkness I had 
not dreamed that I could ever have the gladness and honour 
of doing this. Now it seemed that I might almost count 
on success. 

As we continued our journey the river grew more and 
more mysterious, ending apparently in each little lake, and 
keeping us constantly guessing as to the direction in which 
our course would next lead us. The inlet in the numer- 
ous expansions was unfailingly concealed, so that not un- 
til we were almost upon it could it be made out. Most mys- 
terious of all was the last lake of our day's journey, where 
the rush of the entering river could plainly be seen, but 
appeared to come pouring forth from a great hole in the 
side of a mountain. As the current swung round the upper 
end of the lake it made the last half hour's work decidedly 
exciting. We landed to camp for the night on the first 
portage since passing Cascade Rapid, nearly twenty miles 
back. 

We had caribou roast for supper, and, to my surprise, I 
found it one of the most delicious things I had ever eaten, 
altogether different from any venison I had before tasted. 
An astonishing amount of that roast was stowed away 
before the camp was quiet for the night. 



84 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

The northern hghts were that evening very brilHant. 
When I put out my hght at bed-time it was as if a bright 
moon was shining. I looked out, and above were three 
broad circles of light with long-pointed fingers raying up 
to the centre directly over my tent as I watched. It 
seemed like a benediction from the hand of God Himself. 
Gradually they drew oiF to the northwest in great, beauti- 
ful scrolls. 

The day following, Monday, July 24th, the river con- 
tinued most bewildering. Beside the portage at our camp, 
we had one, about half a mile long, farther up where the 
old trail was quite well marked, and carried us past a fall 
of about seven feet with a heavy rapid below. All day our 
way led among high hills till towards evening, when they 
spread out to the north and south, and we saw ahead a 
terraced sand plain, several miles wide, with the hills again 
beyond. Here, coming in from the northwest, was a brook, 
where, according to our map, the Indian route again 
leaves the river. This meant another long stretch of rough 
water, but our plan was still to keep to the river as far 
as it was possible, finding our own portage route where 
necessary. 

The river's course was now cut deep into the plain, the 
banks being from thirty to forty feet in height, and the 
current very swift. The plain had once been sparsely 
wooded but was burned over and very desolate looking now. 
Huckleberries, cranberries, and Labrador tea grew in pro- 



OFF FOR MICHIKAMAU 85 

fusion, and were in blossom, while patches of reindeer 
moss were seen struggling into life where we made our 
camp. 

During the last part of the day's journej'^ the current 
had been increasingly swift, and some distance ahead we 
could hear the sound of a heavy waterfall. We reached 
it the following morning about two miles or more above 
our camp. It was a beauty, about thirty feet in height. 
The canoes could be taken close to the foot of the fall, and 
after a short carry over the high, rocky point were put in 
the water again not twenty feet from the brink of the 
fall. 

As the morning was fine, I had walked from camp to the 
fall while the men brought up the canoes. I was striding 
along the terrace, not thinking at all about my surround- 
ings, when I suddenly became conscious of a most delight- 
ful fragrance, and looking down I found myself in the 
midst of a tangle of the long, trailing vines of the twin 
flower (Linnea horealis), sweetest of all Labrador flowers, 
with hundreds of the slender, hair-like stems bearing their 
delicate pink bells. How delighted I was to find it. Other 
Labrador flowers were beautiful, but none so lovely as this. 

Above the falls the river was very rough, and in the 
next half or three-quarters of a mile we made three more 
portages, and landed a little before noon at a high, rocky 
point on the south shore, to find ourselves at the edge of the 
hill country again. Here the river was crowded between 



86 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

high, rocky hills where it flowed too swift and deep for 
either poles or paddles. We could keep to it no farther, 
and so made camp, for now some scouting for a portage 
route would be necessary. 

While at dinner that day a thunder-shower passed. The 
thunderstorms of Labrador seem very mild and gentle as 
compared with those we are accustomed to. Later it settled 
to steady rain. Job went scouting, and the others lay in 
the tent most of the afternoon, Joe and Gilbert not feeling 
very well. Trouble — change of diet with a little too much 
of it. Job on his return in the evening reported the river 
bending away to the southwest a few miles farther on, and 
impassable as far as he could see. There w^ould be a long 
portage west and south, but the country was not very 
rough, and a number of small lakes would give some 
paddling. 

The following day all the men, except Job, were ill, and 
camp was not moved till Thursday morning. When even- 
ing came, the outfit had been taken forward three and a 
half miles. The three small lakes we had passed had given 
about one mile of paddling, and at night our camp was 
made at the edge of the fourth, a tiny still water pond. 

The flies were that day worse than I had ever seen 
them. My veil proving an insufficient protection, I made 
myself a mask from one of the little waterproof bags, 
cutting a large hole in front through which I could see and 
breathe, and sewing over it several thicknesses of black 



OFF FOR MICHIKAMAU 87 

veiling. There were as well two holes cut at the back of the 
ears for ventilation — these also being covered with the 
veiling. Pulling it over mj head I tied it tight round my 
neck. It was most fearful and hideous to look upon, but it 
kept out the flies. The men insisted that I should have to 
take it off when we came to the Nascaupees else they would 
certainly shoot me. The flies were in clouds that day, and 
even their tapping on the outside of my mask made me 
shudder. I ached as I watched the men carrying their 
heavy loads, for it was very, very hot, and they wore no 
protection whatever. How they endured so uncomplain- 
ingly I could not understand, and they rarely wore their 
veils. It was an unspeakable relief when the clear, cool 
night closed in, and for a time put an end to the torture. 



CHAPTER VIII 

SCARING THE GUIDES 

I AWOKE on Friday at 2.30 a.m. The morning was clear 
as diamonds, and from the open front of my tent I could 
see the eastern sky. It glowed a deep red gold, and I lay 
watching it. An hour later the sun appeared over the hills 
touching the peak of my tent with its light, and I got up 
to look out. The mists had gathered on our little lake, 
and away in the distance hung white over the river. 

Gilbert was busy getting wood and preparing the break- 
fast. Soon I heard him at the door of the men's tent say- 
ing, " All aboard." 

" Any mosquitoes this morning, Gilbert ? " 

" Not a one. Too cold. By Garge, but it's cold this 
morning ! I went down to the lake and tried to wash, but 
I had to I'ave off. It was too cold." 

Shortly I heard them at the fire. The click of the cups 
told me that they were taking a little tea and bannock be- 
fore starting to carry. Then all was quiet, and one load 
had gone forward to the next lake, nearly a half mile 
ahead. When all but the camp stuff had been taken for- 

88 



SCARING THE GUIDES 89 

ward, we had breakfast, and by 7 a.m. we were in the 
canoes. 

Our course led us south through two Httle lakes, with a 
portage between, for something more than two miles. Here 
the second lake bent away to the southeast, and we landed 
on our right at the foot of a low moss-covered ridge. Be- 
yond this we hoped to see the river. As we climbed, new 
heights appeared before us, and it proved to be about 
three-quarters of a mile to the top, from which the ridge 
dropped abruptly on the west, and at its foot was a long, 
narrow lake. At first I thought it was the river, but, when 
it became clear that it was not, my heart sank a little. 
Had we been wrong after all.^ Had the river bent away to 
the north instead of the south as we supposed.? 

Job and Gilbert outstripped us in the climb, and now 
we saw them disappearing across a valley on our left in 
the direction of a high hill farther south, and we followed 
them. As before, new heights kept appearing as we went 
up, and when the real summit came in view we could see 
Job and Gilbert sitting on its smooth and rounded top 
looking away westward. How I wondered what they had 
found. When we came up with them there, to the west, 
around the south end of the opposite ridge, we could 
see the river flowing dark and deep as before. Above, to 
the southwest, were two heavy falls, and at the head of 
the upper and larger one the river widened. There were 
several islands, and it looked as if we might be coming 



90 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

to the expansions near the upper part of the river. One 
lake beside that at the foot of the mountain would make 
the portage route an easy and good one. 

The view from the mountain top was magnificent in all 
directions. To the north the hills lay east and west in 
low, regular ridges, well covered with green woods ; and 
thirty miles away, on a few of the highest of them, were 
great patches of snow lying. East and west and south 
were the more irregular hills, and everywhere among them 
were the lakes. It was very fine; but to my great regret 
I had left my kodaks in the canoe. 

The green woods interested Gilbert, who was looking 
for new trapping grounds for himself and Donald Blake. 
We had come more than fifty miles from Seal Lake, the 
limit of his present trapping grounds, and he quite seriously 
considered the question of extending his path up to those 
hills the following winter. 

Turning to George, I said : " Why shouldn't I come 
up here after dinner with my kodaks, and take some pic- 
tures while you men are making the portage? The walking 
is not rough, and I couldn't possibly lose my way if I 
tried." 

He looked quite serious about it for a moment, and then 
said : " Well, I guess you might." 

Slipping down the south end of the hill a little way to 
see that there were no rough places where I should be in 
danger of falling going down, he returned, and with the 



SCARING THE GUIDES 91 

manner of one who is making a great concession said 
again : " I guess you can come up here this afternoon. 
You could go down this way and meet us at this end of 
the lake. You will be able to see when we come along in the 
canoes." 

I was delighted, and after a half hour on the hill-top 
we started back directly towards the canoes. It was very 
hot among the lower and more sheltered sand-hills, and for 
a long time there was no running water to be found ; but 
when we did come upon a tiny stream crossing the way, 
hats were quickly turned into drinking-cups for one long, 
satisfying drink. The miles back to camp had always a 
way of drawing themselves out to twice the usual length. 
George insisted that it was but two miles to the canoes, 
but to me it seemed quite four. 

Lunch over, we rested a little, and then armed with two 
kodaks, note-books, revolver and cartridges, bowie knife, 
barometer and compass, I was ready for my climb. Before 
starting George said : " I think you had better take your 
rubber shirt. It is going to rain this afternoon." 

I looked at the sky. It was beautiful, with numbers 
of silvery clouds floating lazily over the hills. It didn't 
look like rain to me, and I had something of a load as it 
was, I said : " No, I don't think I shall. I should rather 
not have any more to carry. It is not going to rain." 

George said no more, and we started. At the little bay 
reaching in at the foot of the mountain we parted, and I 



92 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

went on up the hill. It seemed beautiful to be going off 
without a guard, and to think of spending an hour or 
two up on the hill top, quite alone, with a glorious sky 
above, and the beautiful hills and lakes and streams in all 
directions. I should be able to get some characteristic 
photographs and it was a perfect day for taking them. 
No time was wasted on the way, and the two hours proved 
all I had hoped. 

The canoes did not come, however, and knowing that 
the men must have had ample time to make the portage, 
I decided to go down to the lake. Certainly by the time 
I reached it they too would be there, for a thunder-shower 
was coming. 

When only a little way from the summit, I looked down 
into the valley and there, quite near where I was to meet 
the men, I saw something, which looked like a huge, brown 
bear, lying down. I stopped and watched it for a while, 
hardly knowing what to do. I had been deceived often, 
but this was not a mere black spot. It had definite shape 
and colour. Though I knew but little about the habits of 
bears, it did not seem the thing one would expect of a bear, 
to be lying there on the moss and rocks at that time of 
day. Still I did not know. 

Finally, I concluded that the quickest way to settle the 
question was to go and see. I had my revolver, and if it 
proved a real bear I would not this time aim " any place ; 
just at the bear." I hurried on trying to keep the dis- 



SCARING THE GUIDES 93 

turbing object in sight, but I could not. When the valley 
was reached it was nowhere to be seen, and I concluded 
I had again been deceived. 

The storm had now come on, and there was still no 
sign of the canoes. I decided that if I must be drenched 
and devoured, for the flies were fearful, I might as well 
be doing something interesting. I set off for the ridge on 
the further side of the lake with something of the feeling 
a child has who runs away from home, for it had been 
constantly impressed upon me that I must never go away 
alone, and I recognized the justice of the demand; but I 
meant to be careful, and probably should not go very far. 
Wading across the brook, which drains the lake to the 
river, I climbed up the ridge and was delighted to get 
a fine view of the falls. I went on to the top, but still 
there was no sign of the canoes, and I walked northward 
along the ridge. It was like a great mound of rock set 
down on the surface of the earth, its top rounded and 
smooth and bare, while on either side it dropped abruptly 
almost to the level of the lake, ending in a precipice a 
mile from where I had climbed it. When I reached its 
northern end I could see the little bay to which the men 
had carried the outfit. 

Imagine my astonishment when, looking across, I saw 
the two canoes turned upside down over the stufi" to keep 
it dry, and the men around a fire drinking tea. I was not 
a little annoyed to find that they were quite so ready to 



94 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

leave me alone in the thunderstorm, knowing that I had 
nothing to protect me, till suddenly I remembered how I 
had been advised to take my rubber shirt — and then I 
thought I understood. I was to have a lesson in taking 
good advice when I could get it. 

I laughed a little and thought : " Oh ! I know something 
better than that. This afternoon I shall ' go where I like 
and do what I please,' like the little fly, and have ' one 
good time.' " 

Taking out my revolver I fired two shots to let them 
know where I was, and started back along the top of the 
ridge to look for a place to climb down. There was a still 
higher ridge between me and the river, and I knew that from 
it I could see more. I stopped to take a photograph of a 
great boulder set on top of some smaller rocks, and while 
doing so heard two rifle shots from the other shore. Evi- 
dently they had just discovered where I was. I fired once 
more in reply, and then disappeared down the other side 
of the mountain. 

It was steep, and I laughed to think how terrified they 
would be if they could see me ; but this afternoon as I had 
thrown off* restraint, I chose the first place where descent 
was possible, and let myself down along a rather wide 
crevice where some earth had gathered, and a few bushes 
were growing. I went fast too, for I meant to go just as 
far as I could before I was rounded up and brought into 
camp. Between the two ridges was a bog, and I tried to 



SCARING THE GUIDES 95 

cross it to save time ; but it threatened to let me in too 
deep, and I had to give it up and go round. I was only 
a little way up on the other hill when there came the sound 
of two rifle shots from the lower end of the lake. Evidently 
the discovery of my whereabouts had aroused very spir- 
ited movement. On I went, faster than ever. The flies 
were desperately thick, and I kept a piece of spruce bough 
going constantly over my face and neck to keep them from 
devouring me bodily. I could feel my ears and neck wet 
and sticky with blood, for some of the bites bleed a good 
deal. Still what did flies matter when you were free. 
That afternoon I should go just as far as I thought I 
could, and get back to camp by dark. 

To my disappointment, when I reached the top of the 
ridge I still could not see the river, for it disappeared 
between high, rocky banks, and could only be seen by, 
walking close to the edge. I decided to go along the ridge 
as far as I could, and then, slipping down to the river, to 
return to camp that way. About two miles out on the 
ridge I sat down to rest and look about a little. The rain 
passed, and a fine breeze put the flies to rout at this high- 
est point. 

I had been seated there but a little while when, looking 
back, I saw one of the men, which proved to be George, 
running as if for life along the top of the ridge where 
they had first seen me. I could just make him out against 
the sky. Then he disappeared, I could not tell where. 



96 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

After a time I began to hear shots. The sounds were very 
faint, but followed each other in quick succession. I 
laughed, and thought I knew what was happening where 
they came from. The shots seemed to come from the ridge 
I was on ; but for some time I could not see any one. Fi- 
nally, I caught sight of one of the men. He was waving 
his arms about wildly, and I could hear very faintly the 
sound of shouting. Then another figure appeared, and 
they started running towards me. 

Suddenly I became frightened. Perhaps all the excite- 
ment was not on my account after all, and I began to 
wonder if something dreadful had happened. Had any 
one been hurt, or drowned.? I started quickly towards 
them, but as soon as they were near enough for me to see 
their faces plainly, I knew that I had been the sole cause 
of the trouble. It was George and Job. The perspiration 
was dripping from their faces, which were pale and filled 
with an expression, the funniest mixture of indignant re- 
sentment, anxiety, and relief, that could possibly be 
imagined. 

When they came up I smiled at them, but there was 
not any answering smile. Then George began to remon- 
strate with me. He stood with folded arms, and serious, 
reproachful face, and said : " Well, I guess you very near 
done it this time." 

" Very near done what? " I asked. 

" Why, you have just about had us crazy." 



SCARING THE GUIDES 97 

" Had you crazy ! What about? " 

" Why, we thought you were lost." 

" Didn't you see me over there on that ridge when I 
fired those shots? " 

" Yes, we did ; and when we got up to the other end 
of the lake we fired two shots, and we thought you would 
come back then. I went up the ridge to meet you, and 
when I saw you were not there I was sure you went down 
to the rapids. Then I ran down there, and when I did 
not find you there I thought you either fell in that rapid, 
or got lost." 

" But I promised not to go to that rapid." 

" Yes, I know you did ; but I thought when you went 
up there on that mountain may be you would go to that 
rapid any way." 

" Well," I said, " when I got to the end of the lake, 
and saw you were not coming, and the thunderstorm was 
coming on, and the flies were so bad, I thought I might 
as well be doing something nice while the storm was wet- 
ting me, and the flies were eating me." 

" Yes, that is just what we said. ' Who would ever think 
of your going up there in that storm? ' " 

I laughed again, and George went on still trying to 
impress on me the evil of my ways. 

" Job, too, he was coming running, and he was sure you 
were lost. When I came to meet you, and could not see you 
on the ridge, and then went to the rapid and could not see 



98 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

you there, we began to walk faster and faster, and then 

to run hke crazy people. Poor Job, he could hardly speak, 

and neither could I, and out of breath, and half crying all 

the time. Oh, we can never trust you to go away alone 

again." 

I said : " Very well, George, I'll make a bargain with 
you. If I can have some one to go with me whenever I 
want to climb a mountain, or do anything else that I think 
it is necessary to do in my work, without any fuss about 
it, I promise not to go away alone again." 

So the compact was made. 

As we walked back to camp George talked. " And you 
did it so quick too. Why I was watching you up on that 
mountain where you went this afternoon, and you were 
so busy and running about up there, as busy as a Labra- 
dor fly. You looked just like a little girl that was playing 
at building something, and I thought how you were en- 
joying yourself. Then the first thing I knew I heard the 
shots on the other side of the lake. We did not see you 
at first. We just looked across the lake and could see noth- 
ing, and we wondered about those shots^ and who could 
be there. Then Joe said : ' Look there, up on the moun- 
tain.' 

" Then we saw you, but we never thought it was you. 
Then Joe said: ' Why, it's a woman.' Then we only knew 
it was you. Even then we could not believe it was you. 
Who ever would think to see you and the little short steps 



SCARING THE GUIDES 99 

that you could go away there, and so quick too. Why, 
we couldn't beheve it. The men got on to me too. They 
said they never saw anything like the way you do. They 
said they had been on lots of trips before, and where there 
were women too, and they said to me they never were on a 
trip before where the women didn't do what they were told." 

I laughed again, which George seemed to think was 
very hard-hearted. He looked quite as if he could not un- 
derstand such callousness, and said : " Yes ; you don't care 
a bit. Do you? " Whereupon I laughed harder, and this 
time he did too, a Httle. 

Then he went on: "Oh, I just thought I was never 
going to see you again. I'm never going to forget about 
it. I was thinking about how you would feel when you 
knew you were lost. It is an awful thing to be lost. If I 
had never been lost myself I wouldn't know what it means 
to be lost. And what would we do if you got lost or feU 
in that rapid? Just think what could we do? Why, I 
could never go back again. How could any of us go back 
without you? We can't ever let you go any place alone 
after this." 

Then after a thoughtful pause. " And to see you, too, 
the way you look. Just as if you would never scare any- 
body." 

When we reached camp it was growing dusk. Joe and 
Gilbert had just finished putting up my tent. They, too, 
had been out on the ridge. 



100 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Though I could not help being amused at the unex- 
pected success of my little plan to be even with them for 
leaving me alone in the storm, I was really sorry. I had 
not meant to frighten them so much. They were all very 
quiet, their faces, with the exception of Gilbert's, were 
distinctly pale, and hands trembled visibly. The brandy 
bottle had but once before been out, but that night, when 
my bags were brought in, I handed it to George, that they 
might have a bracer, and be able to eat supper. 

Later on I was to learn that the game had not yet been 
played out. Again the joke was on me. 
They drank it all! 



CHAPTER IX 

MOUNT HUBBARD AND WINDBOUND LAKE 

The day following no one was astir early. I think no one 
slept much. I could hear from the other tent the low hum 
of the men's voices far into the night. Mosquitoes kept me 
awake. About 2 a.m. I got up, lighted my candle, and 
killed all I could find, and after that I had a little peace, 
but did not sleep much. It was then growing light. 

There was a general limpness to be observed in camp 
that morning, aggravated by a steady downpour of rain ; 
but before noon it cleared, and the men took all but the 
camp stuff forward. We had supper late to avoid the flies, 
the still night gathering round us as we ate. Rising close 
above was the dark mass of Lookout Mountain, the lake at 
its foot stretching away into the gloom, reflecting dimly 
the tinge of sunset light in the sky above. By the camp 
fire, after our meal, the men sat telling each other stories 
till Job and Joe broke the little circle and went to their 
tent. Then floating out on the solemn, evening silence came 
the sound of hymns sung in Indian to old, familiar tunes, 
and last the " Paddling Song." With what an intense love 
the one who was gone " away " had loved it all. I could 

101 



102 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

not help wondering if sometimes he wished to be with me. 

It seemed as if he must. 

On Sunday morning it rained, but cleared before noon, 
and at 11.30 a.m. we were on the river- That afternoon 
and the day following we passed the most picturesque 
part of the river. There were Maid Marion Falls, where 
the river drops fifty feet into a narrow gorge cut out of 
the gneiss and schists of the Laurentian rock over which 
it flows ; Gertrude Falls, a direct drop of sixty feet, which 
for dignity and beauty is unsurpassed by any feature of the 
Nascaupee ; and Isabella Falls, a system of falls and rapids 
and chutes extending for more than a mile, where the water 
poured over ledges, flowed in a foaming, roaring torrent 
round little rocky islands, or rushed madly down a chute. 
About half-way up there was an abrupt, right angle bend 
in the river, and, standing at the bend looking northward, 
you could see through the screen of spruce on the islands, 
high above you and half a mile away, the beginning of 
the river's wild mile race, as it took the first flying leap 
out over a wall of rocks. 

The rock colouring was a deep red brown, and in some 
places almost purple. The perpendicular surfaces were 
patched with close lying grey-green moss, and in places 
with a variety almost the colour of vermilion. The coun- 
try was not burned over, and everywhere the beautiful 
reindeer moss grew luxuriantly, setting off in fine con- 



MOUNT HUBBARD 103 

trast the tall spruces, with occasional balsams growing 
among them. 

A mile and a half of very rough portaging brought us 
at 3 P.M. to the head of the falls, and there we found 
ourselves on a lake at last. Perhaps few will understand 
how fine the long stretch of smooth water seemed to us. 
That day the portaging had been very rough, the way 
lying over a bed of great, moss-covered boulders that were 
terribly slippery. The perspiration dripped from the 
men's faces as they carried, for it was very hot. The big 
Labrador bulldogs (flies as large as wasps) were out in 
force that day, as well as the tiny sandflies. One thing 
we had to be thankful for, was that there were no mosqui- 
toes. The men told me that there are never many where 
the bulldogs are plentiful, as these big fellows eat the 
mosquitoes. I did not see them doing it, but certain it is 
that when they were about in large numbers there were 
very few mosquitoes. They bit hard, and made the blood 
run. They were so big and such noisy creatures that their 
horrible buzzing sent the cold chills chasing over me when- 
ever they made an attack. Still they were not so bad as 
mosquitoes. 

And now we were afloat again on beautiful smooth water. 
The lake stretched away to the southwest six and a half 
miles. We camped that evening on a rocky ridge stretch- 
ing out in serpent-like form from the west shore of the 



104 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

lake above. The ridge was not more than fifty feet wide, 
but it was one mile long. The rocks were grown over with 
moss, and the willows and a few evergreens added their 
touch of beauty. These long narrow points were a char- 
acteristic feature of the lakes of the upper plateau. In 
this and the lakes above, through which we passed the day 
following, there were many small, rocky islands, some of 
them willow covered, some wooded. The shores everywhere 
were wooded, but the difference in size in the trees was now 
quite marked. They were much smaller than on the river 
below. The water was clear, and we could see the lake beds 
strewn with huge boulders, some of them reaching to very 
near the surface. Here we began to see signs of the In- 
dians again, occasional standing wigwam poles showing 
among the green woods. 

Passing four of these lakes, we came to where the river 
flows in from the south down three heavy rapids. On the 
west side of its entrance to the lake we found the old 
trail. The blazing was weather worn and old, but the trail 
was a good one, and had been much used in the days long 
ago. The portage was little more than a quarter of a mile 
long, and we put our canoes into the water again in a tiny 
bay above the islands. 

While the men took their loads forward I set up my 
fishing-rod for the first time. Every day I had felt 
ashamed that it had not been done before, but every day 
I put it off. I never cared greatly for fishing; much as I 



MOUNT HUBBARD 105 

had loved to be with my husband on the lakes and streams. 
Mr. Hubbard could never understand it, for more than 
any other inanimate thing on earth he loved a fishing-rod, 
and to whip a trout stream was to him pure delight. As 
I made a few casts near the foot of the rapid, my heart 
grew heavier every minute. I almost hated the rod, and 
soon I took it down feeling that I could never touch it 
again. 

In the bay above the falls we saw a mother duck and 
her flock of little ones, the first we had seen so far on our 
trip. In the afternoon we passed up the short reach of 
river into another lake, the largest we had yet seen, stretch- 
ing miles away to east and west, we could not tell how far. 
We could see, the men thought, about ten miles to the 
east, and twelve to fifteen west. The lake seemed to aver- 
age about four miles in width. The narrowest part was 
where we entered it, and on the opposite shore, three miles 
away, rose a high hill. It seemed as if we might even now 
be on Michikamau, perhaps shut from the main body of 
the lake only by the islands. From the hill we should be 
able to see we thought, and so paddled towards it. 

The hill was wooded almost to the top, and above the 
woods was the barren moss-covered summit. The walking 
was very rough. It seemed to me as we climbed that I 
should be stifled with the heat, and the flies, and the eff^ort, 
but most of all with the thoughts that were crowding my 
mind. Instead of being only glad that we were nearing 



106 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Michikamau I had been growing more and more to dread 
the moment when I should first look out over its broad 
waters. Sometimes I felt that I could never go on to the 
top — but I did. 

The panorama of mountain, and lake, and island was 
very impressive. For miles in every direction were the 
lakes. Countless wooded islands, large and small, dotted 
their surfaces, and westward, beyond the confusion of 
islands and water around us, lay the great shining Michi- 
kamau. Still we could see no open way to reach it. Lying 
along its eastern shore a low ridge stretched away north- 
ward, and east of this again the lakes. We thought this 
might perhaps be the Indian inland route to George River, 
which Mr. Low speaks of in his report on the survey of 
Michikamau. Far away in the north were the hills with 
their snow patches, which we had seen from Lookout 
Mountain. Turning to the east we could trace the course 
of the Nascaupee to where we had entered it on Sunday. 
We could see Lookout Mountain, and away beyond it the 
irregular tops of the hills we had come through from a 
little west of Seal Lake. In the south, great rugged hills 
stood out west towards Michikamau. North and south of 
the hill we were on were big waters. The one to the south 
we hoped would lead us out to Michikamau. It emptied 
into the lake we had just crossed in a broad shallow rapid 
at the foot of our hill, one and a half miles to the west. 

George showed me, only a few miles from where we 



MOUNT HUBBARD 107 

were standing, Mount Hubbard, from which Mr. Hub- 
bard and he had seen Michikamau; Windbound Lake and 
the lakes through which they had hoped to find their way 
to the great lake ; the dip in the hills to the east through 
which they had passed on their long portage. He pointed 
out to me a little dark line on the brow of the hill where 
the bushes were in which they had shot the rabbit, and on 
the eastern slope another dark shadow showing where they 
had shot the ptarmigan. 

So much of life and its pain can crowd into a few min- 
utes. The whole desperate picture stood out with dread 
vividness. Yet I had wished very much to see what he had 
shown me. 

At the rapid we were but a few minutes poling up to 
the big water south. Then after two miles of paddling, 
still southward, we rounded a point and looked westward 
straight into Michikamau and the sun. It was 5.52 p.m. 

When the exclamations of delight had subsided Gilbert 
asked : " Do we have rice pudding for supper to-night, 
Mrs. Hubbard?" 

That evening we camped in an island flower-garden. 



CHAPTER X 

MICHIKAMAU 

It was the sun that did it, or else it was a scheme on the 
part of George and Job to work in an extra pudding. 
However that may have been, we found ourselves on 
Wednesday morning not yet on Lake Michikamau, and 
we did not reach it until 5.15 p.m. that day. 

We started, expecting to paddle straight away west 
into the great lake. As we glided out on what proved to 
be, after all, another lake instead of an arm of Michika- 
mau, we saw that land, not water, stretched across the 
western horizon. South from our island camp the shore of 
the lake was a low ridge sloping to the water in three 
distinct terraces, moss-covered and smooth as a carefully, 
kept lawn, with here and there a clump of stunted fir 
trees. Four miles to the west the ridge terminated in a 
low point. 

As we crossed the lake Job remarked that there was 
some current here. On nearing the point we were startled 
by a sudden exclamation from him. He had caught sight 
of a freshly cut chip on the water. We stopped, and the 
chip was picked up. The two canoes drew together, when 

108 



MICHIKAMAU 109 

it was examined closely, and an animated discussion in 
Indian went on. It was all interesting to watch, and a 
revelation to me to see an ordinary little chip create so 
much excitement. How much a seeming trifle may mean 
to the " Children of the Bush," or for that matter to any 
other " children," who see the meaning of things. I could 
not tell of course what they were saying, but I knew that 
the question was : " Who, beside ourselves, is in this deep 
wilderness? " The conclusion reached was that the wind 
had brought it here in the night from our own camp. 

Passing the point the canoe again stopped some dis- 
tance beyond it, and another brisk conversation ensued. 
I learned they had discovered a current coming from the 
south, and we turned to meet it. Following it up, one mile 
south and one mile west, we came to where the river flows 
in from the south in a rapid. This was really funny. We 
had comfortably settled ourselves in the belief that the 
rapids had all been passed. Job and Gilbert had taken off^ 
their " shoe-packs " with the prospect of a good day's 
paddling, and here were the rapids again. Our course for 
four miles above this point was up a tortuous, rapid river. 
It seemed to flow from all points of the compass, and, in 
almost continuous rapids. They were not rough, but the 
currents were fearfully swift, and seemed to move in all 
directions. These are more difiicult to understand, and 
hence more dangerous than many of the rougher rapids. 

About 2 P.M. we came out upon a lake. It was not 



no THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

very large, and its upper end was crowded with islands. 
Four miles from the outlet the lake narrowed, and the 
water flowed down round the islands with tremendous 
swiftness. Again it widened, and a mile west from the 
rapids we landed to climb a hill. Everyone went, and by 
the time I was half-way up, the men were already at the 
top jumping round and waving their hats and yelling like 
demons, or men at a polo match. As I came towards them, 
Gilbert shouted : " Rice pudding for supper to-night, Mrs. 
Hubbard." It was not hard to guess what all the demon- 
stration meant. We could not see all the channel from 
our hill-top, there were so many islands ; but it could 
be seen part of the way and what was most important we 
could see where it led straight west to Michikamau. 

Once more in the canoes our way still led among the 
islands up the swift flowing water. It was not till 5.15 
P.M. that we at last reached the point where the Nascau- 
pee River first receives the waters of the great lake. Pad- 
dling against a rather strong head wind we continued 
westward near a long island, landing shortly before 7 p.m. 
on its outer shore to make our first camp on Lake Michi- 
kamau. 

It was a beautiful place, and had evidently been a 
favourite with the Indians. There were the remains of 
many old camps there. Here the flies and mosquitoes were 
awful. It made me shiver even to feel them creeping over 
my hands, not to speak of their bites. Nowhere on the 



MICHIKAMAU 111 

whole journey had we found them so thick as they were 
that night. It w^as good to escape into the tent. 

Next morning I rose early. It was cloudy but calm, 
and Michikamau was like a pond. How I wondered what 
fortune would be ours in the voyage on this big water. 
The canoes seemed so tiny here. I called the men at 6.30 
A.M., and at nine we were ready to start. Before leav- 
ing, Job blazed two trees at the landing, and in one he 
placed a big flat stone on which I wrote with a piece of 
flint Joe brought me, 

HUBBARD EXPEDITION, 
ARRIVED HERE, AUGUST 2nd 1905. 

Underneath it I wrote the names of all the party. Then 
we embarked and it was " All aboard for George River ! " 
our next objective point. 

Our way led among the islands through water which 
seemed to promise good fishing. We put out the trolls, and 
waited hopefully to see what might be the prospect for 
testing the namaycush (great lake trout) of Michikamau 
for lunch. We had not long to wait. Soon I saw Joe in 
the other canoe hauling in his line, and a few minutes after 
there was a tug at mine. I got a nice little one. I had my 
line out a second time for just a short while when there 
was a harder tug on it, and I knew I had a big one. We 
had no gaff, and Job said we had better go ashore to land 
him. We did, and I was just pulling him up the beach 



112 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

when he gave one mighty leap and was gone. When my 
hne came in I found the heavy wire which held the hooks 
had been straightened out, and he had gone off with them 
in his mouth. Joe's fish was a big one, about fifteen 
pounds, the men thought. Job said mine was bigger. 

We had lunch on an island that day. The men boiled 
the whole of the big fish, except a little that they fried 
for me. George ate the head boiled, which he says is the 
best part. It was all delicious. I cleaned my little one care- 
fully, and placing some willow boughs about it, laid it 
in the shade until we should be starting. Then after all 
my care we went away and forgot it. On the island we 
found the whitened antlers and skull of a young caribou 
stag. Joe cut off one of the points, and I used it after 
that to wind my trolling line. 

During the afternoon there was more wind, and the 
lake grew rougher. It was fine to see the way the men 
managed the canoes. Sometimes we seemed almost to lose 
ourselves in the trough of the big waves, but there was 
not a dipper of water taken in. There was a head wind 
and hard paddling for a time, but towards evening it 
grew calmer, and the lake became very beautiful. In the 
distance we saw several large masses of floating ice, and 
lying far away in the west were many islands. The sky 
above was almost covered with big, soft, silver clouds and 
as the sun sank gradually towards the horizon the lake 
was like a great field of light. Once we stopped to Hsten 



MICHIKAMAU 113 

to the loons calling. They were somewhere out on the glit- 
tering water, and far apart. We could not see them, but 
there were four, and one wild call answering another rang 
out into the great silence. It was weird and beautiful 
beyond words ; the big, shining lake with its distant blue 
islands ; the sky with its wonderful clouds and colour ; two 
little canoes so deep in the wilderness, and those wild, re- 
verberant voices coming up from invisible beings away in 
the " long light " which lay across the water. We listened 
for a long time, then it ceased. 

We camped early that night south of the bay on the 
farther side of which the hills reached out to the west, 
narrowing the lake to about seven miles. The bay was 
between four and B.\e miles wide, and it was too late to 
risk crossing it that night. George said if it were still 
calm in the morning they would take just a bite and a 
cup of tea, and start. We could have breakfast on the 
other shore. 

During the night a north wind sprang up, and though 
soon calm again the lake was stirred up, and all the rest 
of the night and the early morning we could hear the 
waves rolling in on the beach. From dawn the men were 
out, now and again, to see if it were fit to start, but it 
was 10 A.M. before we were on the water. On one of the 
islands where we landed during the morning we found the 
first " bake-apple " berries. They were as large as the top 
1 Great Northern Divers. 



114 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

of my thumb, and reddened a little. Though still hard 
they already tasted like apples. We lunched on an island 
near the north shore of the bay. While at our meal the 
wind changed and was fair for us, so we started, hoping 
to make the most of it. Crossing through a shallow which 
separated what had looked like a long point from the hills, 
we came out to the narrower part of the lake. Here the 
hills on the east shore were seen to recede from the lake, 
stretching away a little east of north, while between, the 
country was flat and boggy. A short distance further on 
we landed to put up sails. A ptarmigan and her little 
family were running about among the bushes, and the 
men gave chase, coming back shortly afterwards with the 
mother bird and her little ones. 

Towards evening we put out our trolls, and I caught 
one big brook trout, one little namaycush, and a big one 
— a twenty -pounder. This time he did not get away, 
though I strongly suspect this may have been because 
Job landed him. We camped late in a swampy place, and 
while the men put up camp I cleaned my three fish. The 
big one was so big that I could hardly manage him. I 
had just opened him up and taken out the inside and was 
struggling to cut off his head when somehow my hunting- 
knife touched his spinal cord in a way that made his tail 
fly up almost into my face. I sprang up with a shriek 
but suddenly remembered he really must be dead after all, 



MICHIKAMAU 115 

and returned to my task. Presently Job emerged from 
the bushes to see what was the trouble. He suggested that 
I had better let him clean the fish, but I decHned. Fi- 
nally I did get the head off, and soon carried my fish to 
the camp in triumph. The big one was boiled for supper, 
and, oh! how good it tasted, for all were desperately hun- 
gry. The night was clear and cold, and after supper I 
sat at the camp fire till quite late — reluctant to leave it. 
Finally it died down, and leaving the glowing embers to 
bum themselves out, I went to my tent. 

We were ofi" early next morning with a fine southwest 
wind, and were at the head of the lake sooner than we had 
expected. From here we had to cross almost to the west 
shore to reach the bay at the north end of the lake. It 
had grown rough since we left camp, and it did not seem 
to me that we could get to the point, for it meant running 
into the wind part of the way. It was an exciting hour's 
work, and the men were very quiet. There was none of the 
usual merry chat. Evidently a storm was coming, and un- 
less we could pass that long, rocky point, and win the 
shelter of the bay beyond, we might be delayed for days. 
The big waves came rolKng up the lake, and as each 
reached us the bottom of the canoe was tipped towards it 
a httle to prevent its coming over, and George's head 
turned slightly to see how it was treating his charge. At 
the same time I could feel my fingers wliich were just 



116 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

over the edge on the other side run along the top of the 

water, and now and then it came over and shpped up my 

sleeve. 

It was squally, and anxiously five pairs of eyes watched 
the sky and the point. It was a relief when the wind 
dropped a little, but then we could see it had risen again, 
roughening the water in the distance some minutes before 
it reached us. As I watched the other canoe slip down the 
long slope of a big wave I wondered, often, if it would 
come up again, for it looked as if bound straight for the 
bottom of the lake. Soon, however, it was on the crest 
of another wave and ready to dip again. The most excit- 
ing part of the experience was watching its motions. The 
perspective made them seem more remarkable than those of 
my own, which indeed were startling enough at times. 

With glad hearts we felt the wind drop a little as we 
neared the point. Then, bending to their paddles with all 
the strength of their strong arms, the men carried the 
canoes beyond the breakers to where we could turn our 
backs to the wind, and we slipped into the quiet bay. 



CHAPTER XI 

STORM-BOUND ON MICHIKAMATS 

We had not reached our haven too soon. Almost imme- 
diately the wind rose again, and by noon was blowing so 
strong that we could have done nothing in any part of 
Lake Michikamau, not to speak of crossing the upper end 
in a heavy south wind. Around the point I did not find 
things look as I expected. It was only a very shallow bay, 
and where we looked for the islands a long, narrow point 
of land stretched out from the west shore to the north- 
east. Flowing round the eastern end of this point was a 
rapid, some two hundred yards in length, and at the head 
of this we found a little lake, between two and three miles 
in length, lying northeast and southwest. All the east- 
ern portion of it was shallow, and it was with considerable 
difficulty we succeeded in getting the canoes up to the 
low shore, where we had lunch. I wondered much if this 
could possibly be Michikamats, which is mapped in, in 
dotted lines, as a lake twenty-five miles long lying north- 
west. 

In the afternoon my perplexities were cleared up. A 
small river, coming down from the northwest, flowed in at 

117 



118 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR' 

the east end of the lake. Three-quarters of a mile of 
poling, dragging, and lifting brought us up to another 
lake, and this proved to be Lake Michikamats. For half 
a mile or more at its lower end the lake is narrow and 
shoal. Its bed is a mass of jagged rocks, many of which 
rise so near to the surface that it was a work of art to 
find a way among them. A low point ran out north on our 
left, and from this point to the eastern shore stretched 
a long line of boulders rising at intervals from the water. 
This line marks the edge of the shallows, and beyond it 
the lake is deep and broad and stretches away northeast 
for more than eight miles of its length, when it bends to 
the northwest. 

As we entered it we saw that the low range of wooded 
hills on our left formed the western boundary of the lake, 
and over the flat wooded shore on the right we could see 
the tops of big, barren hills of a range stretching north- 
ward. These are a continuation of the round-topped hills 
which border the east shore of Michikamau south of where 
the lake narrows. For some miles of our journey up 
northern Michikamau we could see these hills miles back 
from the low shore-line. Now we seemed to be turning 
towards them again. Beyond a point one mile and a quar- 
ter north from where we entered the lake a deep ba}^ runs 
in to the east, and here the hills came into plain view 
though they were still far back from the shore. Their 
rounded tops were covered with moss, and low down on 



STORM-BOUND ON MICHIKAMATS 119 

the sides dark patches showed where the green woods were. 

It was a glorious afternoon, and the canoes scudded 
at racing pace before a heavy south wind. At a point on 
the east shore, six miles up the lake, I landed to take 
bearings. Here we found a peculiar mound of rocks along 
the edge of the water which proved to be characteristic 
of the whole shore-line of the lake. The rocks had been 
pushed out by the ice and formed a sort of wall, while 
over the wall moss and willows grew, with here and there 
a few stunted evergreens, the whole making an effective 
screen along the water's edge. Back of this were swamps 
and bogs with low moss-covered mounds running through 
them, and grown up with scattered tamarack and spruces. 
On the west shore the hills reached quite to the wall itself. 

Behind this wall, at the point, we found a family of 
ptarmigan. When we appeared the mother bird tried 
vainly to hurry her flock away to a place of safety. Her 
mate flew across to an island a short distance north, leav- 
ing her alone to her task, but she and her little ones were 
all taken. Here the first wolf tracks we had seen on the 
trip were found. 

After some time spent at the point it was time to camp. 
We crossed to the island, north, and as we landed a white- 
winged ptarmigan flew back to where had just been enacted 
one of the endless succession of wilderness tragedies. I 
wondered if he would not wish he had stayed to share 
the fate of his little family, and what he would do with 



120 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

himself now. It was a beautiful camping place we found. 
The Indians had found it too, and evidently had appre- 
ciated its beauty. There were the remains of many old 
camps there, well-worn paths leading from one to the other. 
It was the first place we had come upon which gave evi- 
dence of having been an abiding place of some permanence. 
There must have been quite a little community there at 
one time. The prospect south, west, and north was very 
beautiful. 

My tent was pitched in a charming nook among the 
spruce trees, and had a carpet of boughs all tipped with 
fresh green. The moss itself was almost too beautiful to 
cover; but nothing, is quite so nice for carpet as the 
boughs. We were on a tiny ridge sloping to the south 
shore of the island, and over the screen of willows and 
evergreens at the water's edge, the wind came in strong 
enough to drive away the flies and mosquitoes, and leave 
one free to enjoy the beauty of the outlook. It was an 
ideal place to spend Sunday, and with a sigh of relief we 
settled into our island camp. The week had been a won- 
derfully interesting one ; but it had also been an anxious 
and trying one in a few ways. I was glad to have passed 
Michikamau so quickly and easily. I wished it might be 
our good fortune to see some of the Indians. 

Through the night the south wind rose to a gale, and 
showers of rain fell. On Sunday morning I was up at 
7 A.M., and after a nice, lazy bath, luxuriously dressed 



STORM-BOUND ON MICHIKAMATS 121 

mjself in clean clothes. Then came a little reading from 
a tiny book that had been in Labrador before, and a good 
deal of thinking. Just after 9 a.m. I lay down to go to sleep 
again. I had not realised it before, but' I was very tired. 
My eyes had closed but a moment when rat-a-tat-tat on the 
mixing pan announced breakfast. Joe had prepared it, 
and the others came straggling out one by one looking 
sleepy and happy, enjoying the thought of the day's rest, 
the more that it was the kind of day to make it impossible 
to travel. Returning to my tent after the meal I lay down 
to sleep. My head had no sooner touched the pillow than 
I was asleep, and did not wake till 1.30 p.m. 

I could hear Gil outside preparing lunch, and went 
out to see how he was getting on. It was the first time 
he had attempted anything in the cooking line, and he 
looked anxious. We were to have fried cakes and tea, and 
Gil was cooking the fried cakes. They were not much to 
look at, for the wind had coated them well with ashes; 
but they tasted good, and the youngster looked quite re- 
lieved at the way they disappeared when we began to 
eat. 

Michikamats was certainly very picturesque In the gale. 
The wind had six miles of unbroken sweep, and stirred 
the lake to wild commotion. Out of shelter I could scarcely 
stand against it. For a long time I watched two gulls 
trying to fly into the wind. They were very persisLent 
and made a determined fight, but were at last compelled 



122 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

to give up and drop back to land. I spent nearly the 
whole afternoon watching the storm, running to cover 
only while the showers passed. 

When we gathered for supper in the evening Job was 
holding a pot over the fire, and did not move to get his 
plate and cup with the rest. George gave me my plate 
of soup, and when I had nearly finished it Job set the pot 
down beside me, saying gently: "I just set this right 
here." In the pot were three fried cakes, crisp and hot and 
brown, exactly as I liked them. 

There was much speculation as to what we should find 
at the head of Lake Michikamats, and I wondered how 
much scouting there would be to do to find the George 
River waters. If only we could see the Indians. Time 
was slipping away all too fast; the last week in August 
was not far distant, . and the George River waters might 
not be easy to find. The days were becoming increasingly 
anxious for me. Our caribou meat was nearly gone, and a 
fresh supply of game would have been very welcome. 
There would be a chance to put out the nets when we 
reached the head of the lake, and the scouting had to 
be done. The nets had not yet touched the water. 

In the night the wind veered to the north and a steady 
rain set in, which was still falling when morning came. 
All were up late for it was too stormy to travel, and rest 
still seemed very good. While eating breakfast we heard 
geese calling not far away, and started on a goose hunt. 



STORM-BOUND ON MICHIKAMATS 123 

It did not prove very exciting, nor very fruitful of geese. 
They were at the head of the bay which ran in east of 
our island. There were a number of small islands in the 
bay separated by rock-strewn shallows, and having landed 
Job and Joe on one of the largest of these, George, Gil- 
bert and I paddled round to the south of the group, and 
came out in the upper part of the bay. There just over 
the marsh grass at its head we saw five geese, but they 
saw us too, and before we could get near them were up 
and away. On the way back four red-throated loons, two 
old and two young, and a spruce partridge were taken. 

It was nearly noon when we reached camp again, and 
the men were in the midst of preparing dinner when they 
caught sight of a big caribou stag swimming across to 
the point south of us. In such circumstances Job was 
indescribable. He seemed as if suddenly inspired with the 
energy of a flying bullet, and moved almost as silently. 
There was a spring for the canoe, and in much less time 
than it takes to tell it, the canoe was in the water with 
Job, Gilbert, and George plying their paddles with all 
their strength. As had happened before, the splendid 
creature almost reached the shore when a bullet dropped 
in front of him, and he turned back. His efforts were 
now no match for the swift paddle strokes that sent the 
canoe lightly towards him, and soon a shot from George's 
rifle ended the struggle. He was towed ashore, bled and 
gralloched, and brought to camp in the canoe. 



124 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Most of the afternoon was spent in cutting up the 
caribou, and putting it on a stage to dry. While they 
were busy with their task there came again the sound of 
the wild goose call. Seizing the rifles, George and Gilbert 
made off across the island, and soon came back with two 
young geese, and word that there was another there but 
too far out in the water for them to get it. Whereupon 
Job and Joe went off^ in the canoe, and after a short time 
came back with a third. This made a pretty good day's 
hunt. George's record was, one spruce partridge, two 
young geese, and one caribou. 

We had young wild goose for supper that night. I 
think I never have tasted anything more delicious, and 
with hot fried cakes it made a supper fit for a king. As 
we ate the men talked about the calls of the wild birds. 

George said : " I do like to hear a wild goose call." Cer- 
tainly no one who heard him say it would doubt his word. 

After a little he continued : " There is another bird, 
too, that the Indians call ' ah-ha-way,' that I used to 
like so much to listen to when I was a boy. How I used 
to listen to that bird call. I tell you if you heard that 
bird call you could just sit and listen and listen. I don't 
know the English name for it. It is a very small duck, just 
a very little bird." 

Speaking of the loons we had heard calling on Lake 
Michikamau he said : " You should hear some of the little 
Indian boys calling the loons. Men's voices are too strong 



STORM-BOUND ON MICHIKAMATS 125 

and rough, but some of those Httle boys, they can do it 
very well. You will just see the loons come and circle round 
and round over them when they call." 

All day long the rain had fallen steadily. I spent most 
of it in my tent, but the men had been out the whole day 
and were soaked. Having done their washing on Sunday 
they had no dry clothes to put on, and so slept wet that 
night. 



CHAPTER XII 

THE MIGRATING CARIBOU 

Tuesday morning, August 8th, dawned clear and calm, 
and Gilbert came forth to light the fire, singing : " Glory, 
glory, hallelujah! as we go marching along." Yet before 
the tents were taken down the wind had sprung up from 
the southwest, and it was with difficulty that the canoes 
were launched and loaded. 

A short distance above our starting-point, we were 
obliged to run into a sheltered bay, where part of the load 
was put ashore, and with the canoes thus lightened we 
crossed to a long, narrow point which reached half-way 
across from the other side, making an excellent break- 
water between the upper and lower parts of the lake. The 
crossing was accomplished in safety, though it was rough 
enough to be interesting, and Job and Joe went back for 
what had been left behind. 

The point terminated in a low, pebbly beach, but its 
banks farther up were ten to twelve feet high, and above 
it was covered with reindeer moss. Towards the outer end 
there were thickets of dwarf spruce, and throughout its 
length scattered trees that had bravely held their heads 

126 



THE MIGRATING CARIBOU 127 

up in spite of the storms of the dread northern winter. To 
the south of the point was a beautiful Httle bay, and at 
its head a high sand mound which we found to be an 
Indian burying-place. There were four graves, one large 
one with three little ones at its foot, each surrounded by 
a neatly made paling, while a wooden cross, bearing an 
inscription in Montagnais, was planted at the head of each 
moss-covered mound. The inscriptions were worn and old 
except that on one of the little graves. Here the cross 
was a new one, and the palings freshly made. Some dis- 
tance out on the point stood a skeleton wigwam carpeted 
with boughs that were still green, and lying about outside 
were the fresh cut shavings telling where the Indian had 
fashioned the new cross and the enclosure about the grave 
of his little one. Back of this solitary resting-place were 
the moss-covered hills with their sombre forests, and as 
we turned from them we looked out over the bay at our 
feet, the shining waters of the lake, and beyond it to the 
blue, round-topped hills reaching upward to blend with 
exquisite harmony into the blue and silver of the great 
dome that stooped to meet them. Who could doubt that 
romance and poetry dwell in the heart of the Indian who 
chose this for the resting-place of his dead. 

Walking back along the point we found it cut by 
caribou trails, and everywhere the moss was torn and 
trampled in a way that indicated the presence there of 
many of the animals but a short time since. Yet it did 



128 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

not occur to me that we might possibly be on the out- 
skirts of the march of the migrating caribou. Ptarmigan 
were there in numbers, and flew up all along our way. 
We passed a number of old camps, one a large oblong, 
sixteen feet in length, with two fireplaces in it, each marked 
by a ring of small rocks, and a doorway at either end. 
Near where we landed, close in the shelter of a thicket of 
dwarf spruce, was a deep bed of boughs, still green, where 
some wandering aboriginal had spent the night without 
taking time or trouble to erect his wigwam, and who in 
passing on had set up three poles pointing northward to 
tell his message to whoever might come after. 

The wind continued high, and squalls and heavy show- 
ers passed. Nevertheless, when lunch was over we pushed 
on, keeping close to the west shore of the lake. Little more 
than a mile further up the men caught sight of deer feed- 
ing not far from the water's edge. We landed, and climb- 
ing to the top of the rock wall saw a herd of fifteen or 
more feeding in the swamp. I watched them almost breath- 
less. They were very beautiful, and it was an altogether 
new and delightful experience to me. Soon they saw us 
and trotted off into the bush, though without sign of any 
great alarm. George and Job made off across the swamp 
to the right to investigate, and not long after returned, 
their eyes blazing with excitement, to say that there were 
hundreds of them not far away. 

Slipping hurriedly back into the canoes we paddled 



THE MIGRATING CARIBOU 129 

rapidly and silently to near the edge of the swamp. Be- 
yond it was a barren hill, which from near its foot sloped 
more gradually to the water. Along the bank, where this 
lower slope dropped to the swamp, lay a number of stags, 
with antlers so immense that I wondered how they could 
possibly carry them. Beyond, the lower slope of the hill 
seemed to be a solid mass of caribou, while its steeper part 
was dotted over with many feeding on the luxuriant moss. 

Those lying along the bank got up at sight of us, and 
withdrew towards the great herd in rather leisurely man- 
ner, stopping now and then to watch us curiously. When 
the herd was reached, and the alarm given, the stags lined 
themselves up in the front rank and stood facing us, with 
heads high and a rather defiant air. It was a magnificent 
sight. They were in summer garb of pretty brown, shad- 
ing to light grey and white on the under parts. The horns 
were in velvet, and those of the stags seemed as if they 
must surely weigh down the heads on which they rested. 
It was a mixed company, for male and female were already 
herding together. I started towards the herd, kodak in 
hand, accompanied by George, while the others remained at 
the shore. The splendid creatures seemed to grow taller 
as we approached, and when we were within two hundred 
and fifty yards of them their defiance took definite form, 
and with determined step they came towards us. 

The sight of that advancing army under such leader- 
ship, was decidedly impressive, recalling vivid mental pic- 



130 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

tures made by tales of the stampeding wild cattle in the 
west. It made one feel like getting back to the canoe, and 
that is what we did. As we ran towards the other men I 
noticed a peculiar smile on their faces, which had in it a 
touch of superiority. I understood in part when I turned, 
for the caribou had stopped their advance, and were again 
standing watching us. Now the others started towards the 
herd. Emboldened by their courage, and thinking that 
perhaps they held the charm that would make a close ap- 
proach to the herd possible, I accompanied them. Strange 
to relate it was but a few minutes till we were all getting 
back to the canoes, and we did not again attempt to brave 
their battle front. We and the caribou stood watching 
each other for some time. Then the caribou began to run 
from either extrem.e of the herd, some round the south end 
of the hill, and the others away to the north, the line of 
stags still maintaining their position. 

After watching them for some time we again entered 
the canoes. A short paddle carried us round the point 
beyond which the lake bent to the northwest, and there 
we saw them swimming across the lake. Three-quarters of 
a mile out was an island, a barren ridge standing out of 
the water, and from mainland to island they formed as 
they swam a broad unbroken bridge ; from the farther end 
of which they poured in steady stream over the hill-top, 
their flying forms clearly outlined against the sky. How 
long we watched them I could not say, for I was too ex- 



THE MIGRATING CARIBOU 131 

cited to take any note of time; but finally the main body 
had passed. 

Yet when we landed above the point from which they 
had crossed, companies of them, eight, ten, fifteen, twenty 
in a herd, were to be seen in all directions. When I reached 
the top of the ridge accompanied by George and Gilbert, 
Job and Joe were already out on the next hill beyond, and 
Job was driving one band of a dozen or more toward the 
water at the foot of the hill, where some had just plunged 
in to swim across. Eager to secure a photo or two at closer 
range than any I had yet obtained, I handed George my 
kodak and started down the hill at a pace which threatened 
every second to be too fast for my feet, which were not 
dressed in the most appropriate running wear. However 
the foot of the hill was reached in safety. There a bog 
lay across our way. I succeeded in keeping dry for a few 
steps, then gave it up and splashed through at top speed. 
We had just hidden ourselves behind a huge boulder to 
wait for the coming of the herd, when turning round I 
saw it upon the hill from which we had just come. While 
exclaiming over my disappointment I was startled by a 
sound immediately behind me, and turning saw a splendid 
stag and three does not twenty feet away. They saw us 
and turned, and I had scarcely caught my breath after the 
surprise when they were many more than twenty feet 
away, and there was barely time to snap my shutter on 
them before they disappeared over the brow of the hill. 



132 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

The country was literally alive with the beautiful 
creatures, and they did not seem to be much frightened. 
They apparently wanted only to keep what seemed to them 
a safe distance between us, and would stop to watch us 
curiously within easy rifle shot. Yet I am glad I can record 
that not a shot was fired at them. Gilbert was wild, for 
he had in him the hunter's instinct in fullest measure. The 
trigger of Job's rifle clicked longingly, but they never for- 
got that starvation broods over Labrador, and that the 
animal they longed to shoot might some time save the life 
of one in just such extremity as that reached by Mr. 
Hubbard and his party two years before. 

The enjoyment of the men showed itself in the kindling 
eyes and faces luminous with pleasure. All his long wil- 
derness experience had never aff^orded Job anything to 
compare with that which this day had brought him. He 
was like a boy in his abandon of delight, and I am sure 
that if the caribou had worn tails we should have seen Job 
running over the hills holding fast to one of them. 

Before proceeding farther we re-ascended the hill which 
we first climbed to take a look at the lake. It could be seen 
almost from end to end. The lower part which we had 
passed was clear, but above us the lake was a network of 
islands and water. The hills on either side seemed to taper 
off^ to nothing in the north, and I could see where the land 
appeared to drop away beyond this northern horizon which 
looked too near to be natural. North of Michikamats were 



THE MIGRATING CARIBOU 133 

more smaller lakes, and George showed me our probable 
route to look for " my river." Squalls and showers had 
been passing all the afternoon, and as it drew towards 
evening fragments of rainbow could be seen out on the 
lake or far away on the hills beyond it. Labrador is a 
land of rainbows and rainbow colours, and nowhere have 
I ever seen them so brilliant, so frequent and so variedly 
manifested. Now the most brilliant one of all appeared 
close to us, its end resting directly on a rock near the foot 
of the hill. George never knew before that there is a pot 
of gold at the end of the rainbow. I suspect he does not 
believe it yet for I could not persuade him to run to get 
it. Gilbert, more credulous, made a determined attempt to 
secure the treasure, but before he reached the rock the 
rainbow had moved off and carried the gold to the middle 
of the lake. 

Camp was made a little farther up. When it was ready 
for the night Job and Joe were again off to watch the 
caribou. They were feeding on the hills and swimming 
back and forth from islands to mainland, now in compa- 
nies, now a single caribou. Job was so near one as he came 
out of the water that he could have caught him by the 
horns. Now and then a distant shout told that Job and 
the caribou had come to close quarters. 

While George and Gilbert prepared supper, I sat writ- 
ing in my diary with feet stretched to the fire, for I was 
wet and it was cold that night. Suddenly I was startled 



134 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

to hear George exclaim in tragic tones : " Oh ! look there ! 
Isn't that too bad I" 

Looking up quickly to see what was the trouble I saw 
him gazing regretfully at a salt shaker which he had just 
drawn from his pocket. 

" Just see," he exclaimed, " what I've been carrying 
round in my pocket all the time you were running after 
those caribou, and never thought about it at all. Well, I 
am sorry for that. I could just have given you a bit and 
you would have been all right." 

For fifty miles of our journey beyond this point we 
saw companies of the caribou every day, and sometimes 
many times a day, though we did not again see them in 
such numbers. The country was a network of their trails, 
in the woodlands and bogs cut deep into the soft soil, on 
the barren hillsides broad, dark bands converging to the 
crossing place at the river. 

At the time I made my journey the general movement 
of the caribou was towards the east; but where they had 
come from or whither they were going we could not tell. 
Piles of white hair which we found later at a deserted 
camp on Cabot Lake where the Indians had dressed the 
skins, and the band of white hair clinging to the west 
bank of the George River, opposite our camp of August 
15th, four feet above the then water-level, pointed to an 
earlier occupation of the country, while the deep cut trails 
and long piles of whitened antlers, found at intervals along 



THE MIGRATING CARIBOU 1S5 

the upper George River, all indicated that this country is 
favourite ground with them. Yet whether they had been 
continuously in this territory since the spring months or 
not I did not ascertain. The Indians whom we found at 
Resolution Lake knew nothing of their presence so near 
them. 

Towards the end of August the following year Mr. 
Cabot, while on a trip inland from Davis Inlet, on the east 
coast, found the caribou in numbers along the Height of 
Land, and when he joined the Indians there, though the 
great herd had passed, they had killed near a thousand. 
It would therefore seem not improbable that at the time 
I made my journey they were bending their steps in the 
direction of the highlands between the Atlantic and the 
George. 

The movements of the barren ground caribou of Labra- 
dor have never been observed in the interior as they have 
been in the country west of Hudson Bay. So far as I can 
learn I alone, save the Indians, have witnessed the great 
migration there; but from such information as I was able 
to gather later at the coast, their movements appear to be 
as erratic as those of the caribou of northern Canada.^ 

From Mr. John Ford, the Agent of the Hudson's Bay 
Company's post at the mouth of the George River, I 
learned that they cross in the neighbourhood of the post 
at different times of the year. He has seen them there in 

iSee Warburton Pike's ("Barren Grounds of Northern Canada"). 



136 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

July and August, in October and November, in January, 
February, and March. They are seen only a few days in 
the summer time, but in winter stay much longer — some- 
times two months. In 1903 they were near the post all 
through February and March. On one occasion in the 
summer one of Mr. Ford's Eskimo hunters went to look 
for caribou, and after walking nearly all day turned home, 
arriving shortly before midnight, but without having 
found a trace of deer. The next morning at three o'clock 
they were running about on the hills at the post in such 
numbers that without trouble as many could be killed as 
were desired. 

From the George River post they hunt west for the 
caribou, which are more often found in the vicinity of 
Whale River post than at either George River or Fort 
Chimo to the west. For the five years preceding my visit 
the caribou had crossed regularly in November at Whale 
River. That is to say they were seen there in great num- 
bers, but no one knew whence they had come, or whither 
they went. Their coming cannot, however, be counted 
upon every year. 

In September 1889 the whole band of George River 
Eskimo went for the annual hunt, by which they expect to 
supply themselves with winter clothing. Day after day they 
travelled on without finding the deer. When provisions 
gave out they were so far away from the post that they 
dared not turn back. One family after another dropped 



THE MIGRATING CARIBOU 137 

behind. Finally, the last little company gave up, one 
young man only having the strength to go any farther. 
He, too, was about to sink down, when at last he came 
upon the caribou. He went back to help the others, but 
in spite of their best efforts twenty-one of the band per- 
ished from starvation. 

That the caribou of Labrador have greatly decreased in 
numbers seems certain. Mr. Peter M'Kenzie, Chief Factor 
of the Hudson's Bay Company in the east, who was a fellow- 
traveller on my return journey, told me that many years 
ago while in charge of Fort Chimo he had seen the caribou 
passing steadily for three days just as I saw them on this 
8th of August, not in thousands, but hundreds of thou- 
sands. The depletion of the great herds of former days 
is attributed to the unreasoning slaughter of the animals 
at the time of migration by Indians in the interior and 
Eskimo of the coast, not only at Ungava, but on the east 
coast as well, for the caribou sometimes find their way to 
the Atlantic. The fires also which have swept the coun- 
try, destroying the moss on which they feed, have had 
their share in the work of destruction. 

Only twice during the journey did we find trace of their 
enemy — the wolves. These hunt the caribou in packs, cut- 
ting out a single deer, and following him till his strength 
is gone, when they jump on him and pull him down. Mr. 
M'Kenzie tells how, when on one of his hunting trips at 
Fort Chimo, a caribou came over the ridge but a short 



138 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

distance from him followed by seven wolves. The animal 
had almost reached the limit of his strength. He ran with 
head low and tongue hanging out. From cover of a boul- 
der Mr. M'Kenzie waited for them to pass, and one after 
another he dropped four of the wolves. The others taking 
the hint altered their course, and the victim escaped. 



CHAPTER XIII 

ACROSS THE DIVIDE 

The gale continued all night with passing showers, which 
threatened to riddle the tent with their force, and it was 
not till ten the following forenoon that we were able to 
proceed, hugging the shore as we went. Deer were about 
in all directions, and as we rounded a point near the head 
of the lake, George, standing in the bow of the canoe, 
and looking across to the woods beyond the big marsh, 
which stretched away northward, said : " The wood over 
there is just moving with them." 

Camp was pitched on the point among the spruce and 
tamarack, preparatory to scouting for George River 
waters, and lunch over. Job and Joe were off to the task, 
while George and Gilbert built a stage and put the cari- 
bou meat over the fire to smoke and dry again. It was my 
golden opportunity to air my camp stuff, and bags were 
emptied and everything spread out in the sunshine and 
wind. Later my washing, neglected on Sunday on ac- 
count of the storm, was added to the decorations. 

How very much I wanted to go scouting with Job and 
Joe! Here I expected difficulties in finding the way. The 

139 



140 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

map I carried indicated a number of detached lakes stretch- 
ing miles northward from Lake Michikamats, and to find 
among the lakes of this upper plain the one which should 
prove the source of the George River, promised to be in- 
teresting work. Inwardly impatient I waited for the re- 
turn of the men. Less than two hours later I saw them 
come down across the marsh to where they had left the 
canoe. There mounting a huge boulder they sat down to 
watch the caribou. 

This was trying, when I had so eagerly waited for the 
news they were to bring ; but a little reflection convinced 
me that it meant simply — nothing definite about the 
George River. Otherwise they would have come imme- 
diately to camp. The conclusion proved correct, and when 
towards evening they came in, the report was — more 
streams and lakes leading northward up the slope of the 
plateau. We had not yet reached the real head of the Nas- 
caupee River. 

Thursday morning, August 10th, we began our por- 
tage across the marsh. Before leaving, the men had a few 
careless, ineffectual shots at a crow which had alighted 
near the camp, the first of its kind we had seen on the trip. 
The marsh was one mile wide from east to west, and 
reached almost two miles northward from the upper end 
of the lake. It was cut by many little streams, which, is- 
suing from a tiny lake one mile and a half above camp, 
wound about among the grassy hummocks of the marsh, 



ACROSS THE DIVIDE 141 

collecting half a mile below in a small pond, to break again 
into innumerable tiny channels leading down to Lake 
Michikamats. 

The pond and streams above gave us some paddling. 
Then came more portaging to the little lake. Below it lay 
a stretch of higher ground which was a queer sort of col- 
lection of moss-covered hummocks, criss-crossed by cari- 
bou trails cut deep into the soft soil. Here cloudberries 
grew in abundance, and though not yet ripe, they were 
mature enough to taste almost as good as the green apples 
I used to indulge in surreptitiously in the days of my 
youth. They seemed a great treat now, for they were the 
first fruit found in abundance on the trip, though we had 
seen a few that were nearly ripe on an island in Lake 
Michikamau, and on the 8th of xlugust Gilbert had gath- 
ered a handful of ripe blueberries on Caribou Hill. 

The lake was about one mile long and two hundred yards 
wide, and was fed by a good-sized stream coming down 
from the north in continuous rapids. The stream was deep, 
and the canoes were poled up with all the outfit in them to 
the lake above, and on a great bed of huge, packed boul- 
ders at the side of the stream we halted for lunch. The 
quest was becoming more and more interesting. When was 
our climbing to end? When were we really going to find 
the headwaters of the Nascaupee, and stand at the sum- 
mit of the plateau .f^ It was thoroughly exciting work this 
climbing to the top of things. 



142 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

That afternoon our journey carried us northwest 
through beautiful Lake Adelaide, where long wooded 
points and islands cutting off the view ahead, kept me in 
a consant state of suspense as to what was to come next. 
About 4 P.M. we reached the northen extremity of the lake, 
where the way seemed closed; but a little searching dis- 
covered a tiny stream coming in from the north and west 
of this the well marked Indian trail. What a glad and re- 
assuring discovery it was, for it meant that we were on the 
Indian highway from Lake Michikamau to George River. 
Perhaps our task would not be so difficult after all. 

The portage led north one hundred yards to a little 
lake one mile long and less than one quarter wide, and 
here we found ourselves at the very head of the Nas- 
caupee River. There was no inlet to the lake, and north of 
it lay a bog two hundred yards wide which I knew must 
be the Height of Land, for beyond it stretched a body of 
water which had none of the appearance of a still water 
lake, and I felt sure we should find its waters flowing north. 

It was just 5 P.M. when, three hundred miles of my 
journey into the great, silent wilderness passed, I stepped 
out of the canoe to stand at last on the summit of the 
Divide — the first of the white race to trace the Nas- 
caupee River to its source. 

I had a strange feeling of being at the summit of the 
world. The country was flat and very sparsely wooded, 
but I could not see far. It seemed to fall away on every 



ACROSS THE DIVIDE 143 

hand, but especially to north and south. The line of the 
horizon was unnaturally near, and there was more than the 
usual realising sense of the great space between the earth 
and the sky. This was enhanced by the lifting of a far 
distant hill-top above the line as if in an attempt to look 
across the Divide. 

That morning I had found myself with only a few 
films left, for the fascination of taking the first photo- 
graphs of the region traversed had betrayed me into 
using my material more lavishly than I should; but now 
I squandered two films in celebration of the achievement, 
taking one picture looking out over the waters flowing 
south to Lake Melville and the Atlantic and facing about, 
but without otherwise changing my position, one over the 
waters which I felt sure we should find flowing north to 
Ungava Bay. 

In a wonderfully short time the outfit had been portaged 
across, and we were again in the canoes, the quest now 
being, not for the inlet but for the outlet of the lake, a 
much less difficult task. Less than an hour's paddling car- 
ried us to the point where the George River, as a tiny 
stream, steals away from its source in Lake Hubbard, as 
if trying to hide in its rocky bed among the willows, to 
grow in force and volume in its three hundred mile jour- 
ney to Ungava, till at its discharge there it is a great 
river three miles in width. 

Here at its beginning on the boggy margin of the 



144 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

stream we went into camp. Here I saw the sun set and 
rise again, and as I lay in my tent at dawn, with its wall 
lifted so that I could look out into the changing red and 
gold of the eastern sky, I heard a splashing of water near, 
and looking up saw a little company of caribou cross at 
the head of the stream and disappear towards the sunrise. 



CHAPTER XIV 

THROUGH THE LAKES OF THE UPPER GEORGE 

How little I had dreamed when setting out on my journey 
that it would prove beautiful and of such compelling inter- 
est as I had found it. I had not thought of interest — ex- 
cept that of getting the work done — nor of beauty. How 
could Labrador be beautiful .? Weariness and hardship I 
had looked for, and weariness I had found often and 
anxiety, which was not yet past in spite of what had been 
achieved; but of hardship there had been none. Flies and 
mosquitoes made it uncomfortable sometimes but not to 
the extent of hardship. And how beautiful it had been, 
with a strange, wild beauty, the remembrance of which 
buries itself silently in the deep parts of one's being. In 
the beginning there had been no response to it in my heart, 
but gradually in its silent way it had won, and now was 
like the strength-giving presence of an understanding 
friend. The long miles which separated me from the world 
did not make me feel far away — just far enough to be 
nice — and many times I found myself wishing I need 
never have to go back again. But the work could not all 
be done here. 

145 



146 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Half the distance across the peninsula had been passed, 
and now on August 11th we were beginning the descent 
of the George River. Would the Labrador skies continue 
to smile kindly upon me? It would be almost if not quite 
a three hundred mile journey to Ungava, and it might be 
more. Could we make the post by the last week in August .^^ 
The men appeared confident; but for me the days which 
followed held anxious hours, and the nights sleepless ones 
as I tried to make my decision whether in case it should 
become evident we could not reach Ungava in time, I 
should turn back, leaving the work uncompleted, or push 
on, accepting the consequent long winter journey back 
across Labrador, or round the coast, and the responsi- 
bility of providing for my four guides for perhaps a full 
year. At least the sun shone on the beginning of the 
journey, and about nine o'clock, the last pack having 
gone forward, I set off down the portage below Lake 
Hubbard, a prayer in my heart that the journey might be 
swift. 

The prayer seemed doomed to remain unanswered at 
first. Before noon of that day the sun was hidden, and 
for nearly a week we did not again see his face. Violent 
storms of wind and rain and snow made progress diffi- 
cult or impossible, and on August 16th we were camped 
only thirty miles from the Height of Land. 

The upper river proved a succession of lake expansions 
of varying sizes, their waters dropping from one to the 



THE LAKES OF THE UPPER GEORGE 147 
other down shallow rapids. At the Height of Land, and 
for some miles beyond, the country is flat and boggy, and 
sparsely wooded with tamarack and spruce, many of the 
tall, slender tops of the former being bent completely 
over by the storms. The spruce was small and scant, in- 
creasing in size and quantity as we descended from the 
highest levels, but nowhere on the northern slope attain- 
ing the size reached in the valley of the Nascaupee. 

Gradually low, barren ridges began to appear, their 
white mossy sides marked by caribou trails which formed 
a network over the country we were passing through, and 
all were freshly cut with hoof marks. Every day there 
were herds or single deer to be seen along the way, and at 
a number of points we passed long piles of whitened ant- 
lers. Other game too, ducks, geese, and ptarmigan had be- 
come plentiful since we entered the caribou country, and 
now and then a few were taken to vary the monotony of 
the diet of dried caribou meat. Loons were about us at 
all hours, and I grew to love their weird call as much al- 
most as the Indians do. 

We travelled too fast to fish, and it was stormy, but 
the indications were that in places at least fish were abun- 
dant. When we ran down to the little lake, on which our 
camp of August 12th was pitched, hundreds of fish played 
at its surface, keeping the water in constant commotion. 
They were in no wise disturbed by our presence and would 
turn leisurely over within two feet of the canoe. I ran out 



148 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

my troll as we paddled down the lake — but not a nibble 
did I get. The men said they were white fish. 

Every day w^e expected to see or hear something of the 
wolves which are said to attend the movements of the 
caribou; but no sign of them appeared, save the one 
track found at the point on Lake Michikamats. 

Signs of the Indians became more numerous, and on a 
point near the head of Cabot Lake we found a camp but 
lately deserted, and left, evidently, with the idea of re- 
turn in the near future. The Indians had been there all 
through the spring, and we found a strongly built cache 
which the men thought probably contained furs, but which 
we did not, of course, disturb. It was about ten feet long 
and six feet wide at the base, and built in the form of an 
A, with the trunks of trees from five to six inches in 
diameter set up close together and chinked with moss and 
boughs. 

There were many of the uncovered wigwams standing 
about, one a large oblong with three fireplaces in it. Lying 
near the wigwams were old clothes of a quite civilised 
fashion, pots, kettles, a wooden tub, paint-cans and brushes, 
paddles, a wooden shovel, broken bones, piles of hair 
from the deer skins they had dressed, and a skin 
stretcher. Some steel traps hung in a tree near, and several 
iron pounders for breaking bones. On a stage, under two 
deer-skins, were a little rifle, a shot gun, and a piece of 
dried deer's meat. A long string of the bills of birds 




THE INDIANS CACHE 





1 


B^ 


1 ^ 


mk f.' 


w 




^Hh^'V 



THE LAKES OF THE UPPER GEORGE 149 
taken during the spring, hung on a tree near the water, 
and besides each of the various wigwams, in the line of 
them which stretched along the south shore of the point, 
a whitened bone was set up on a long pole for luck. 

The river gradually increased in volume, and all pre- 
vious excitement of work in the swift water seemed to 
grow insignificant when my long course in running rapids 
began. Perhaps it was because the experience was new, 
and I did not know what to expect ; but as the little canoe 
careered wildly down the slope from one lake to the next 
with, in the beginning, many a scrape on the rocks of the 
river bed, my nervous system contracted steadily till, at 
the foot where we slipped out into smooth water again, it 
felt as if dipped into an astringent. 

A few miles below Cabot Lake the river is joined by 
what we judged to be its southeast branch, almost equal 
to the middle river in size. This branch, together with a 
chain of smaller lakes east of Lake Michikamau, once 
formed the Indian inland route from the Nascaupee River 
to the George used at times of the year when Lake Mich- 
ikamau was likely to be impassable on account of the 
storms. It had been regularly travelled in the old days 
when the Indians of the interior traded at Northwest River 
post ; but since the diversion of their trade to the St. Law- 
rence it had fallen into disuse. 

There was much talk of our prospective meeting with the 
Nascaupees which I did not understand; and it was not 



150 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

until the evening of August 14th, as I sat after supper at 
the camp fire, that I became conscious of the real concern 
with which the men were looking forward to the event. 

For two precious days we had been unable to move on 
account of the storms. The rain had fallen steadily all 
day, changing to snow towards evening, and now, though 
the downpour had ceased, the black clouds still fled rolling 
and tossing over head before the gale, which roared 
through the spruce forest, and sent the smoke of the 
big camp fire whirling now this way, now that, as it 
found its way into our sheltered nook. 

George and Joe were telling amusing stories of their 
boyhood experiences at Rupert's House, the pranks they 
played on their teacher, their fights, football, and other 
games, and while they talked I bestowed some special care 
upon my revolver. Job sat smoking his pipe, listening 
with a merry light in his gleaming, black eyes, and Gilbert 
lounged on the opposite side of the fire with open-mouthed 
boyish attention. 

The talk drifted to stories of the Indians, tributary to 
Rupert's House, and the practical jokes perpetrated on 
them while camped about the post to which they brought 
each spring from the far interior their winter's catch of 
furs. There were stories of Hannah Bay massacre, and 
the retribution which followed swift and certain ; and of 
their own trips inland, and the hospitality of the Indians. 
The talk ended with an anxious " If it were only the Hud- 



THE LAKES OF THE UPPER GEORGE 151 
son Bay Indians we were coming to, there would be no 
doubt about the welcome we should get." 

Turning to me, George remarked, " You are giving 
that revolver a fine rubbing up to-night." 

" Yes," I replied, laughing a little : "I am getting 
ready for the Nascaupees." 

" They would not shoot you," he said gravely. " It 
would be us they would kill if they took the notion. What- 
ever their conjurer tells them to do, they will do." 

" No," asserted Gilbert, who boasted some traditional 
knowledge of the Nascaupees, " they would not kill you, 
Mrs. Hubbard. It would be to keep you at their camp 
that they would kill us." 

I had been laughing at George a little, but Gilbert's 
starthng announcement induced a sudden sobriety. As 
I glanced from one to the other, the faces of the men were 
all unwontedly serious. There was a whirl of thoughts for 
a moment, and then I asked, " What do you think I shall 
be doing while they are killing you.? You do not need to 
suppose that because I will not kill rabbits, or ptarmigan, 
or caribou, I should have any objection to killing a Nas- 
caupee Indian if it were necessary." 

Nevertheless the meeting with the Indians had for me 
assumed a new and more serious aspect, and, remembering 
their agony of fear lest some harm befall me ere we 
reached civihsation again, I realised how the situation 
seemed to the men. When I went to my tent, it was to lie 



152 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

very wide awake, turning over in my mind plans of battle 

in case the red men proved aggressive. 

The following morning the weather was still bad but 
we attempted to go forward. Soon a snow squall drove 
us to the shelter of the woods. When it had passed we 
were again on the water; but rain came on and a gale of 
wind drove it into our faces, till they burned as if hot 
water instead of cold were pelting them. We could make 
no headway, and so put ashore on the right bank of the 
river to wait for calmer weather. Camp was made on a 
tiny moss-covered ridge of rock back of the stretch of 
swamp along the shore, and soon a roaring fire sent out 
its welcome warmth to the wet and shivering wayfarers 
crouching near it in the shelter of the spruce. How cold 
it was ! And how slowly we were getting on ! 

The river widened here, and on the left bank, at short 
intervals broad trails with fresh cut tracks led down to 
its edge, and along the shore a wide band of white caribou 
hair clung to the bank four feet above the river, where it 
had been left by the receding water. So we knew that the 
caribou had been in possession of the region since shed- 
ding their winter coats. 

We had been sitting by the fire only a little while when 
Job, who, after his usual manner had disappeared, called 
to us in a low, eager voice from one hundred feet away. 
He said only one word — " Joe " — but we all knew what 
it meant and there was a rush in the direction in which he 



THE LAKES OF THE UPPER GEORGE 15S 
had again disappeared. A herd of fifteen caribou were 
swimming across from the opposite shore straight to the 
httle bay above our landing. Under cover of the woods 
and willows we stole down quite close to the water and 
waited until they came almost to shore. Then springing 
from our hiding places we shouted at them. The beau- 
tiful, frightened creatures turned and went bounding back 
through the shallow water, splashing it into clouds of 
spray, till they sank into the deeper tide and only heads 
and stubs of tails could be seen as they swam back to the 
other shore. They were nearly all young ones, some of 
them little fawns. 

All day long, at short intervals, companies of them were 
seen crossing, some one way, some another. Towards even- 
ing two herds passed the camp at the same time, one to 
the east of us but a short distance away, and the other 
along the foot of the ridge on the west, not fifty feet from 
our camp. 

On Wednesday, against the strong northwest wind, we 
succeeded in making six and a half miles, passing the 
mouth of the southwest branch of the Upper George 
River ; and when at 3 p.m. we reached the head of Long 
Lake it was too rough to venture on, and we had to go 
into camp. 

I felt rather desperate that night, and sick with disap- 
pointment. One week of precious time was gone, it was 
the 16th of the month, and v/e were only thirty miles, 



154 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

perhaps a little more, from the Height of Land. How 
was it possible to reach the post in time for the ship now? 

" We will get you there about two days before the ship 
arrives," George insisted. 

" When we get down below the lakes we can make forty 
miles a day if the weather is good," said Joe. 

But I was not reassured. When we should get down be- 
low the lakes we could travel fast perhaps; but the last 
one, Indian House Lake, where the old Hudson's Bay Com- 
pany post had been, was still far, far north of us, and no 
one knew what lay between. Perhaps there was a bare 
possibility that we might make the journey in ten days; 
but I knew I could not count on it. Had I a right to un- 
dertake the return journey with its perils? I was not sure. 

My tent was sweet that night with the fragrance of its 
carpet of balsam boughs, and a big bunch of twin flowers, 
which grew in profusion there; but it was late before I 
slept. Perhaps two hours after I awoke to find a big moon 
peering into my face through the open front of my tent. 

I was startled at first, and instinctively reached for my 
revolver, not knowing what it was ; but when full conscious- 
ness had returned, whether it was the effect of the moon or 
not, the question had somehow been settled. I knew I 
should go on to Ungava whatever the consequences might 
be. 



CHAPTER XV 

THE MONTAGNAIS INDIANS 

The night was very still when I awoke, but it was cold. 
Frost sparkled in the moonlight on willows and low growth, 
and when at first sign of dawn I reached for my stockings 
and duffel to put them on, they were frozen stiff. I did 
not wait to hunt out dry ones, but slipped them on for I 
was too anxious to be on the march again. I meant to go 
on to Ungava now, no matter what befell ; perhaps we 
could yet be in time for the ship. She might be delayed. 

The men were astir early, and at a quarter to six we 
were off. Already the lake was almost too rough again to 
go forward. The wind had risen, and blew cold across the 
water driving the morning mists before it. Now and then 
they lifted a little, giving a glimpse of the farther shore, 
or parted overhead where a patch of deep blue could be 
seen. It was rather shivery, but I loved it. Two hours later 
the mists were gone, and for the first time since leaving 
Lake Hubbard we saw the sun again. 

It was a glorious day, the kind which almost all the 
eventful days of our journey had been. I wanted to com- 
pel it to yield me something of value and interest, and it 

155 



156 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

did ; for after we had passed down the stretch of river be- 
low Long Lake and out into the larger one which I after- 
wards named Resolution, we came upon the first camp of 
the Indians. 

When we entered the lake we were surrounded by num- 
bers of islands in its upper extremity, but beyond it was 
clear and stretched away northward calm and beautiful 
after the storm. Its shores were low for the most part, but 
four miles down the lake a high, sandy point reached far 
out from the east shore, and it was there we found the 
Indians. 

At first, we could see only a shapeless dark mass on the 
hillside. It moved and swayed now this way, now that, and 
the first thought was that it was caribou ; but when there 
came the flash of sunlight on metal from the midst of it, 
and the sound of rifle shots, there was no longer any mis- 
taking it for caribou. 

As we came towards them the firing continued at inter- 
vals, and now and then I sent back an answering shot 
from my revolver ; but it was not without a feeling of un- 
easiness that we approached. I thought of many things 
which might happen and the men paddled very slowly; 
but our amusement may be imagined when, on drawing 
nearer, we found that they were all women and children. 
There was much screaming and shouting from the hill. 

" Go away, go away," they shrieked. " We are afraid 
of you. Our husbands are away." 



THE MONTAGNAIS INDIANS 157 

Their speech was that of the Montagnais Indians which 
George understood, having learned to speak it while at 
Northwest River post in the winter of 1903-1904. 

" Tanta sehof " (Where is the river?) shouted Job into 
the din, " Tanta sehof " 

When they ceased their screaming to listen, George 
called to them in Montagnais : " We are strangers and are 
passing through your country." 

A swift change followed these few words in their own 
familiar tongue. There was eager talking together, the 
screams of terror were changed to laughter, and four of 
the older women ran down to the landing to welcome us. 
We were greeted with much hand-shaking, and their num- 
ber was gradually swelled from the camp on the hill. They 
displayed not the least sign of shyness or embarrassment, 
being altogether at their ease. Their clothing was of a 
quite civilised fashion, the dresses being of woollen goods 
of various colours made with plain blouse and skirt, while 
on their feet they wore moccasins of dressed deerskin. The 
jet black hair was parted from forehead to neck, and 
brought round on either side, where it was wound into a lit- 
tle hard roll in front of the ear and bound about with pieces 
of plain cloth or a pretty beaded band. Each head was 
adorned with a tuque made from black and red broadcloth, 
with beaded or braided band around the head. Both the 
manner of wearing the hair and the tuque were exceed- 
ingly picturesque and becoming, and the types were 



158 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

various as those to be found in other communities, rang- 
ing from the sweet and even beautiful face to the grossly 
animal like. They were not scrupulously clean, but were 
not dirtier than hundreds of thousands to be found well 
within the borders of civilisation, and all, even the little 
cliildren, wore the crucifix. 

Their men had gone down to Davis Inlet, on the east 
coast, to trade for winter supplies. They had been away 
five days and were expected to return soon, the outward 
trip being made in three or four days while the return re- 
quires five. The camp was now eagerly awaiting the ar- 
rival of the tea, sugar, and tobacco, the new gowns, the 
gay shawls and the trinkets which make the return from 
the post the great event of the year. 

As their speech indicated, these people were found to 
belong to the Montagnais tribe, which is a branch of the 
Cree Nation, and is tributary to the posts along the St. 
Lawrence. There after the, winter's hunt they gather in 
hundreds at Mingan and Seven Islands, and it is then they 
receive from the Roman Catholic missionaries instruction 
in the Christian faith. This camp, the only one of the 
tribe to do so, had for some years traded at Davis Inlet, 
on the northeast coast. We could gather little from the 
women about the route to Davis Inlet further than that 
it is a difficult one, and for this reason they do not ac- 
company the hunters on the yearly journey there. 

The " Mush-a-wau e-u-its " (Barren Grounds People), 



THE MONTAGNAIS INDIANS 159 

the Nascaupee Indians, whom Mr. Hubbard had been so 
eager to visit, and who also are a branch of the Cree Na- 
tion, they informed us, have their hunting grounds farther 
down the river. 

" You will sleep twice before coming to their camp," 
they said. 

We were assured of a friendly reception there, for the 
two camps are friendly and sometimes visit each other ; but 
they could tell us little about the river, because in making 
the journey between the two camps, they use a portage 
route through lakes to the east of the river. The journey 
to the George River post at Ungava they thought would 
take two months. 

My heart sank as this was interpreted to me. In that 
case I could no longer entertain any hope of being in time 
for the ship. It would mean, too, the entire journey back 
in winter weather. I had counted that even if we missed 
the ship we could probably reach Lake Michikamau on 
the return before winter set in ; but that also would be im- 
possible. In the midst of the sickening feeling of disap- 
pointment and uncertainty which came with this informa- 
tion, I was conscious of being thankful that the main 
question had been decided. 

Rather disconsolately I went up for a brief look at the 
camp on the hill. The situation was beautiful, and com- 
manded a view from end to end of Resolution Lake, which 
extended about four miles both north and south of the 



160 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

point, and was divided into two distinct parts, just opposite 
the camp, by a long island with points of land reaching 
towards it from north and south. Beyond the island lay 
a broad sheet of water which seemed equal in size to the 
one we were on, and along its farther shore low blue ridges 
stretched away northward. 

The skies seemed trying to make reparation for the week 
of storms, and the mood of the camp corresponded with 
that of the day. Children played about quietly, or clung 
to their mothers' skirts, as they watched the strangers with 
curious interest and the mothers were evidently happy in 
their motherhood as mothers otherwhere. 

" We are poor," said one, " and we live among the 
trees, but we have our children." 

The camp consisted of two wigwams, one a large ob- 
long and the other round. They were covered with dressed 
deer-skins drawn tight over the poles, blackened round 
the opening at the top by the smoke of the fires, which are 
built in the centre within. I was not invited to go into the 
wigwams, but through the opening which served as door- 
way in front of one of them I had a glimpse of the in- 
terior. It seemed quite orderly and clean. Four rifles, which 
lay on the carpet of balsam boughs, looked clean and 
well cared for. The dishes, pans, tea-pots, etc., which were 
mostly of white enamel, with some china of an ordinary sort, 
were clean and shining. Long strings of dressed deer- 
skin, and a few moccasins hung from the poles round the 



THE MONTAGNAIS INDIANS l6l 

opening at the top. The moccasins were not decorated in 
any way, nor were those worn by the women, and I saw 
no sign of ornamentation of any kind, save the tuques with 
their beaded or braided bands, and the bands on the hair. 

Except for their children they were poor indeed now, for 
there was not a taste of sugar, tea, or tobacco at the camp. 
They rarely have flour, which with them is not one of the 
necessities of life. They were hving on what fish they 
could catch while the hunters were away, and were not 
having the best success with their fishing. They did not 
know of the presence of the caribou so near them, and I 
thought regretfully of how easily we could have brought 
down one or more had we known of their need, and where 
we should find them. 

Some six or eight splendid Eskimo dogs prowled about 
snarling at one another, and occasionally indulging in an 
ugly fight, at which there was a rush for clubs or tent 
poles to separate them; for unless separated they never 
stop till the one that goes down is killed. At whatever 
hour of the day or night a fight begins, the dogs have to 
be separated, otherwise one or more of the number will be 
lost; and the loss of a dog is a calamity in the north 
country. 

While I wandered over the hillside a Httle, keeping a 
wary eye on the dogs, the women devoted their attentions 
to the men. They were anxious to have the visit pro- 
longed, and every inducement was held out even to offer- 



162 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

ing them wives, temporary, if they would remain; but 
after taking a few pictures, for which they posed easily 
and without sign of self -consciousness, I bade them fare- 
well and we returned to the canoes. They did not accom- 
pany us to the landing. 

With the prospect of so long a journey before me I 
had to resist the impulse to share my provisions with them ; 
but before we left, George carried a few ounces of tea up 
the hill. There was a merry chase as each tried to possess 
herself of the treasure. They were like children in their 
delight. A pair of moccasins was offered in return; but 
the gift of tea was too slight and they were not accepted. 
Soon we were slipping slowly away towards the river with 
an occasional glance back to the group on the hill. When 
a few rods from shore. Job, who had the faculty of mak- 
ing his English irresistibly funny whenever he chose, 
stood up in the stern of the canoe, and taking off his hat to 
them with a very elaborate bow called, " Good-bye, good- 
bye, my lady." 

The directions we had received enabled us to find the 
river without difficulty, and passing down through a suc- 
cession of small expansions with low, swampy shores where 
the wood growth was almost altogether tamarack, we 
camped in the evening ten miles below Resolution Lake, at 
the point where the river drops down through three rocky 
gorges to flow with strong, swift current in a distinct 
valley. 



THE MONTAGNAIS INDIANS 163 

The lakes of the upper country were here left behind, 
and when we resumed our journey the following morn- 
ing it was to be carried miles on a current in which the 
paddles were needed only for steering. Stretches of quiet 
water were succeeded by boisterous rapids, and sometimes 
I walked to lighten the canoe where the rapid was shallow. 
Tributaries entered on either hand, the river increased in 
force and volume, and when we halted for lunch some ten 
miles below Canyon Camp, the George had come to be a 
really great river. 

We were getting down to the hills now and the coun- 
try, which had been burned over, was exceedingly barren 
and desolate. On the slopes, which had been wooded, the 
grey and blackened tree trunks were still standing like 
armies of skeletons, and through their ranks the hills of 
everlasting rock showed grey and stern, stripped even of 
their covering of reindeer moss. Heavy showers passed 
during the day, but it was otherwise beautiful and we made 
good progress. When we camped that evening below Thou- 
sand Island Expansion it was with twenty-two miles to our 
credit. 

It seemed very fine to have another good day's work 
behind and I felt less heavy hearted. Some thinking had 
convinced me that the two months' estimate for the journey 
to Ungava was far from correct ; but I still feared it was 
useless to entertain hope of being in time for the ship. 
Yet one does hope even when it is plainly useless, Never- 



164> THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

theless life had come to be a serious matter with us all now, 
excepting Gilbert, for the men too were averse to spending 
a winter in Labrador, and had rather advocated a return by 
way of Davis Inlet or the Grand River. Gilbert alone sang 
and laughed as merrily as ever, undisturbed by doubts 
or fears. 

That evening the sunset was of clear gold and the 
sudden chill, which in Labrador always follows, sent me 
shivering to the camp fire where, below the bank, on the 
solid, smooth-worn rock of the river-bed, we had supper 
of ptarmigan. But neither hunger nor perplexities could 
shut out the impress of the desolate grandeur of our sur- 
roundings. This was the wilderness indeed with only the 
crystal river and the beautiful skies to make it glad. Only ? 
Or was there more.'' Or was it glad.^ Perhaps, yes surely, 
somewhere within it there was gladness; but everywhere it 
was beautiful with the beauty which alone, to some hearts, 
can carry ,the " still small voice." If only it would never 
say, " What dost thou here.? " One must wish to stay and 
listen to it always. 

Through the stillness came up the sound of the rapids 
below our camp. Above, fish jumped in the quiet waters 
where the after-glow in the sky was given back enriched 
and deepened. Then came night and the stars — bright 
northern lights — bright moon — shadows on the tent — 
dreams. 

A ptarmigan whirred up from the corner of my tent and 



THE MONTAGNAIS INDIANS 165 

I awoke to find the sun shining and everything outside 
sparkling with frost. The men had already begun portag- 
ing, for below camp the rapids were too heavy to take 
the outfit down; but when breakfast was over and the last 
load had been taken forward over the half-mile portage, the 
canoes were run down the river. 

A short distance below, the river drops rapidly round 
many little islands of pink and white rock by a succession 
of picturesque falls and rapids and chutes extending for 
more than a mile and here a number of short portages were 
made. We reached the last of the islands shortly before 
eleven o'clock and then landed to climb a hill to the east. It 
rose six hundred and thirty feet above the river,' but the 
view from the top afforded us little satisfaction so far as 
the route was concerned. The river could be seen for only 
a few miles ahead, flowing away to the northwest towards 
higher hills, where we could see patches of snow lying. 
Some miles to the east was a large lake, its outlet, a river of 
considerable size, joining the George River three-quarters 
of a mile north of where we had left the canoes. Below 
the junction there were many Indian signs along the shores, 
and we knew that there the portage route of which the 
Montagnais women had spoken, must lead to the river 
again. Steadily through the afternoon we approached the 
higher hills, ever on the watch for the Nascaupee camp ; 
but we did not find it. 

There was a short lift over a direct djop of four or five 



166 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

feet, and two portages of about half a mile past heavy 
rapids, at the second of which the river drops fifty feet 
to flow between high, sandy banks, the hills on either side 
standing back from the river, their broken faces red with 
a coating of iron rust. The intervening spaces were strewn 
with boulders of unusual size. 

Fresh caribou tracks, the only ones seen since leaving 
the head of Long Lake, were found on the first portage, 
and on the second I gathered my first moss berries. A 
heavy shower passed late in the afternoon and the sky re- 
mained overcast; but we were not delayed, and towards 
evening arrived at the point, twenty miles below Thousand 
Island Expansion, where a large tributary comes in from 
the west, and the George River turns abruptly northward 
among the higher hills. 

The proposal to go into camp had already been made 
when George discovered some ptarmigan high up the bank. 
There was a brisk hunt and eleven were taken. So again 
w^e supped on ptarmigan that night. I took mine in my 
tent on account of the mosquitoes, which were so thick 
that, as George expressed it, it was " like walking in a 
snowstorm " to move about outside. 



CHAPTER XVI 

THE BARREN GROUND PEOPLE 

On Sunday morning, August 20th, I awoke in a state of 
expectancy. We had slept three times since leaving the 
Montagnais camp, and unless the Barren Grounds People 
were not now in their accustomed camping place, we ought 
to see them before night. Many thoughts came of how 
greatly Mr. Hubbard had wished to see them, and what a 
privilege he would have thought it to be able to visit them. 

It seemed this morning as if something unusual must 
happen. It was as if we were coming into a hidden country. 
From where the river turned into the hills it flowed for more 
than a mile northward through what was like a great mag- 
nificent corridor, leading to something larger beyond. 

When Joe and Gilbert, who were usually the first to get 
off, slipped away down the river, I realised how swift flow- 
ing the water must be. It looked still as glass and very 
dark, almost black. The quiet surface was disturbed only 
by the jumping of the fish. We saw the canoe push off 
and turned to put a few last touches to the loading of our 
own. When we looked again they were already far away. 
Soon, however, we had caught them up and together 

167. 



168 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

the two canoes ran out into the widening of the river. 
Here it bent a Httle to the northeast, but two miles farther 
on it again bore away to the north. In the distance we 
could see the mountain tops standing far apart and knew 
that there, between them, a lake must lie. Could it be In- 
dian House Lake, the Mush-au-wau-ni-pi, or " Barren 
Grounds Water," of the Indians? We were still farther 
south than it was placed on the map I carried. Yet we 
had passed the full number of lakes given in the map 
above this water. Even so I did not believe it could be the 
big lake I had been looking forward to reaching so 
eagerly. 

As we paddled on at a rather brisk rate I sat thinking 
how beautiful the river, the mountains, and the morning 
were. I had not settled myself to watch seriously for the 
Nascaupee camp, when suddenly George exclaimed, " There 
it is." 

There it was indeed, a covered wigwam, high up on a 
sandy hill, which sloped to the water's edge, and formed 
the point round which the river flowed to the lake among 
the mountains. Soon a second wigwam came in sight. We 
could see no one at the camp at first. Then a figure ap- 
peared moving about near one of the wigwams. It was 
evident that they were still unconscious of our presence ; 
but as we paddled slowly along the figure suddenly stopped, 
a whole company came running together, and plainly our 
sudden appearance was causing great excitement. There 



THE BARREN GROUND PEOPLE 169 

was SL hurried moving to and fro and after a time came 
the sound of two rifle shots. I rephed with mj revolver. 
Again they fired and I rephed again. Then more shots 
from the hill. 

As we drew slowly near, the men ran down towards the 
landing, but halted above a narrow belt of trees near the 
water's edge. There an animated discussion of the new- 
comers took place. 

We all shouted, "Bo Jou! Bo Jou!" (Bon Jour), 

A chorus of Bo Jous came back from the hill. 

George called to them in Indian, " We are strangers 
and are passing through your country." 

The sound of words in their own tongue reassured them 
and they ran down to the landing. As we drew near we 
could hear them talking. I, of course, could not under- 
stand a word of it, but I learned later from George what 
they said. 

"Who are they.?" 

" See the man steering looks like an Indian." 

" That surely is an Indian." 

" Why, there is an English woman." 

" Where have they come from ? " 

As the canoe glided towards the landing, one, who was 
evidently the chief, stepped forward while the others re- 
mained a little apart. Putting out his hand to catch the 
canoe as it touched the sand he said, " Of course you have 
some tobacco ? " 



170 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

" Only a little," George replied. " We have come far." 
Then the hand was given in greeting as we stepped 
ashore. 

It was a striking picture they made that quiet Sabbath 
morning, as they stood there at the shore with the dark 
green woods behind them and all about them the great 
wilderness of rock and river and lake. You did not see it 
all, but you felt it. They had markedly Indian faces and 
those of the older men showed plainly the battle for hfe 
they had been fighting. They were tall, lithe, and active 
looking, with a certain air of self-possession and dignity 
which almost all Indians seem to have. They wore dressed 
deer-skin breeches and moccasins and over the breeches 
were drawn bright red cloth leggings reaching from the 
ankle to well above the knee, and held in place by straps 
fastened about the waist. The shirts, some of which were of 
cloth and some of dressed deer-skin, were worn outside the 
breeches and over these a white coat bound about the edges 
with blue or red. Their hair was long and cut straight 
round below the ears, while tied about the head was a 
bright coloured kerchief. The faces were full of interest. 
Up on the hill the women and children and old men stood 
watching, perhaps waiting till it should appear whether 
the strangers were friendly or hostile. 

" Where did you come into the river.? " the chief asked. 
George explained that we had come the whole length of 



THE BARREN GROUND PEOPLE 171 

the river, that we had come into it from Lake Michikamau, 
which we reached by way of the Nascaupee. He was 
greatly surprised. He had been at Northwest River and 
knew the route. Turning to the others he told them of our 
long journey. Then they came forward and gathered 
eagerly about us. We told them we were going down the 
river to the post at Ungava. 

" Oh ! you are near now," they said. " You will sleep 
only five times if you travel fast." 

My heart bounded as this was interpreted to me, for it 
meant that we should be at the post before the end of 
August, for this was only the twentieth. There was still 
a chance that we might be in time for the ship. 

" Then where is the long lake that is in this river? " 
George enquired. 

" It is here," the chief replied. 

We enquired about the river. All were eager to tell 
about it, and many expressive gestures were added to their 
words to tell that the river was rapid all the way. An arm 
held at an angle showed what we were to expect in the 
rapids and a vigorous drop of the hand expressed some- 
thing about the falls. There would be a few portages but 
they were not long, and in some places it would be just a 
short lift over ; but it was all rapid nearly. 

" And when you come to a river coming in on the other 
side in quite a fall you are not far from the post." 



172 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

There was a tightening in my throat as I thought, 
" What if I had decided to turn back rather than winter 
in Labrador ! " 

" Did you see any Indians ? " the chief asked. 

" Yes, we have slept three times since we were at their 
camp." 

" Were they getting any caribou? " was the next eager 
question. " Had they seen any signs of the crossing? " 
George told them of the great numbers we had seen and 
there followed an earnest discussion among themselves as 
to the probability of the caribou passing near them. 

" Are you going up ? " we enquired. 

They replied, " No, not our country." 

There were enquiries as to which way the caribou were 
passing, and again they talked among themselves about 
their hopes and fears. We learned that only three days be- 
fore they had returned from Davis Inlet where they go to 
trade for supplies as do the Montagnais. They had come 
back from their long journey sick at heart to meet empty 
handed those who waited in glad anticipation of this the 
great event of the year — the return from the post. The 
ship had not come, and the post store was empty. 

As they talked, the group about the canoe was grow- 
ing larger. The old men had joined the others together 
with a few old women. As the story of their disappoint- 
ment was told one old man said, " You see the way we live 
and you see the way we dress. It is hard for us to live. 



THE BARREN GROUND PEOPLE 173 

Sometimes we do not get many caribou. Perhaps they will 
not cross our country. We can get nothing from the Eng- 
lishman, not even ammunition. It is hard for us to live." 

All summer they had been taking an occasional caribou, 
enough for present needs, but little more than that, and 
the hunters on their return from the coast found the hands 
at home as empty as their own. Now the long winter 
stretched before them with all its dread possibilities. 

We enquired of them how far it was to the coast, and 
found that they make the outward journey in five days, 
and the return trip in seven. They informed us that they 
had this year been accompanied part of the way in by an 
Englishman. All white men are Englishmen to them. As 
George interpreted to me, he said, " That must be Mr. 
Cabot." 

Instantly the chief caught at the name and said, " Ca- 
bot? Yes, that is the man. He turned back two days' jour- 
ney from here. He was going away on a ship." 

When during the winter I had talked with Mr. Cabot of 
my trip he had said, " Perhaps we shall meet on the George 
next summer." Now I felt quite excited to think how near 
we had come to doing so. How I wished he had sent me a 
line by the Indians. I wanted to know how the Peace Con- 
ference was getting on. I wondered at first that he had not 
done so; but after a little laughed to myself as I thought 
I could guess why. How envious he would be of me, for I 
had really found the home camp of his beloved Nascaupees, 



174 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Meanwhile the old women had gathered about me 
begging for tobacco. I did not know, of course, what it 
was they wanted, and when the coveted tobacco did not 
appear they began to complain bitterly, " She is not giving 
us any tobacco. See, she does not want to give us any 
tobacco." 

George explained to them that I did not smoke and so 
had no tobacco to give them, but that I had other things 
I could give them. Now that we were so near the post I 
could spare some of my provisions for the supply was 
considerably more than we should now need to take us to 
our journey's end. There was one partly used bag of flour 
which was lifted out of the canoe and laid on the beach. 
Then Job handed me the tea and rice bags. Two, not very 
clean, coloured silk handkerchiefs were spread on the beach 
when I asked for something to put the tea and rice in, and 
a group of eager faces bent over me as I lifted the precious 
contents from the bags, leaving only enough tea to take 
us to the post, and enough rice for one more pudding. An 
old tin pail lying near was filled with salt, and a piece of 
bacon completed the list. A few little trinkets were dis-* 
tributed among the women and from the expression on 
their faces, I judged they had come to the conclusion that 
I was not so bad after all, even though I did not smoke 
a pipe and so could not give them any of their precious 
" Tshishtemau.'^ 

Meantime I had been thinking about my photographs. 



THE BARREN GROUND PEOPLE 175 

Taking up one of my kodaks I said to the chief that I 
should hke to take his picture and motioned him to stand 
apart. He seemed to understand quite readily and stepped 
lightly to one side of the little company in a way which 
showed it was not a new experience to him. They had no 
sort of objection to being snapped, but rather seemed 
quite eager to pose for me. 

Then came an invitation to go up to the camp. As 
George interpreted he did not look at all comfortable, and 
when he asked if I cared to go I knew he was wishing 
very much that I would say " No," but I said, " Yes, in- 
deed." So we went up whi^ the other three remained at 
the canoes. 

Even in barren Labrador are to be found little touches 
that go to prove human nature the same the world over. 
One of the young men, handsomer than the others, and 
conscious of the fact, had been watching me throughout 
with evident interest. He was not only handsomer than the 
others, but his leggings were redder. As we walked up to- 
wards the camp he went a little ahead, and to one side 
managing to watch for the impression he evidently ex- 
pected to make. A little distance from where we landed 
was a row of bark canoes turned upside down. As we passed 
them he turned and, to make sure that those red leggings 
should not fail of their mission, he put his foot up on one 
of the canoes, pretending, as I passed, to tie his moc- 
casin, the while watching for the effect. 



176 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

It was some little distance up to camp. When we reached 
it we could see northward down the lake for miles. It lay 
like a great, broad river guarded on either side by the 
mountains. The prospect was very beautiful. Everywhere 
along the way we found their camping places chosen from 
among the most beautiful spots, and there seemed abundant 
evidence that in many another Indian breast dwelt the heart 
of Saltatha, Warburton Pike's famous guide, who when 
the good priest had told him of the beauties of heaven 
said, " My Father, you have spoken well. You have told 
me that heaven is beautiful. Tell me now one thing more. 
Is it more beautiful than the land of the musk ox in sum- 
mer, when sometimes the mist blows over the lakes, and 
sometimes the waters are blue, and the loons call very often ? 
This is beautiful, my Father. If heaven is more beautiful 
I shall be content to rest there till I am very old." 

The camp consisted of two large wigwams, the covers of 
which were of dressed deer-skins sewed together and drawn 
tight over the poles, while across the doorway hung an old 
piece of sacking. The covers were now worn and old and 
dirty-grey in colour save round the opening at the top, 
where they were blackened by the smoke from the fire in the 
centre of the wigwam. 

Here the younger women and the children were waiting, 
and some of them had donned their best attire for the 
occasion of the strangers' visit. Their dresses were of cot- 
ton and woollen goods. Few wore skin clothes, and those 



THE BARREN GROUND PEOPLE 177 

who did had on a rather long skin shirt with hood attached, 
but under the shirt were numerous cloth garments. Only 
the old men and little children were dressed altogether in 
skins. One young woman appeared in a gorgeous purple 
dress, and on her head the black and red tuque with beaded 
band worn by most of the Montagnais women, and I won- 
dered if she had come to the Nascaupee camp the bride of 
one of its braves. There was about her an air of conscious 
difference from the others, but this was unrecognised by 
them. The faces here were not bright and happy looking 
as at the Montagnais camp. Nearly all were sad and wist- 
ful. The old women seemed the brightest of all and were 
apparently important people in the camp. Even the little 
children's faces were sad and old in expression as if they 
too realised something of the cares of wilderness life. 

At first they stood about rather shyly watching me, with 
evident interest, but making no move to greet or welcome 
me. I did not know how best to approach them. Then see- 
ing a young mother with her babe in her arms standing 
among the group, near one of the wigwams, I stepped to- 
wards her, and touching the little bundle I spoke to her of 
her child and she held it so that I might see its face. It 
was a very young baby, bom only the day before, I 
learned later, and the mother herself looked little more than 
a child. Her face was pale, and she looked weak and sick. 
Though she held her child towards me there was no light- 
ing up of the face, no sign of responsive interest. Al- 



178 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

most immediately, however, I was surrounded by nearly 
the whole community of women who talked rapidly about 
the babe and its mother. 

The little creature had no made garments on, but was 
simply wrapped about with old cloths leaving only its face 
and neck bare. The outermost covering was a piece of plaid 
shawl, and all were held tightly in place by a stout cord 
passing round the bundle a number of times. It would be 
quite impossible for the tiny thing to move hand or foot 
or any part of its body except the face. As one might 
expect it wore an expression of utter wretchedness though 
it lay with closed eyes making no sound. I could make 
almost nothing of what they said, and when I called George 
to interpret for me they seemed not to want to talk. 

Taking out my kodaks I set about securing a few photo- 
graphs. Already the old women were beginning to prepare 
for the feast they were to have. Two large black pots 
that stood on three legs were set out, and one of the 
women went into the tent and brought out a burning brand 
to light the fire under them. Soon interest was centred in 
the pots. I had a little group ranged up in front of one 
of the wigwams, when the lady in purple, whose attention 
for a time had been turned to the preparations for the 
feast, seeing what was taking place came swiftly across and 
placed herself in the very centre of the group. All appar- 
ently understood what was being done and were anxious 
to be in the picture. 



r 




mm^ 



'M^f 



^^ 



i 







THE BARREN GROUND PEOPLE 179 

During the stay at camp I saw little sign of attempt at 
ornamentation. The moccasins and skin clothing I saw were 
unadorned. There was but the one black and red tuque with 
braided band, and the chief's daughter alone wore the 
beaded band on her hair, which was arranged as that of 
the women in the Montagnais camp. One woman coveted a 
sweater I wore. It was a rather bright green with red 
cuffs and collar, and the colour had greatly taken her 
fancy. I wished that I had been able to give it to her, but 
my wardrobe was as limited as I dared to have it, and so 
I was obliged to refuse her request. In a way which I had 
not in the least expected I found these people appealing 
to me, and myself wishing that I might remain with them 
for a time, but I could not risk a winter in Labrador for 
the sake of the longer visit, even had I been able to per- 
suade the men to remain. 

Already George was showing his anxiety to get away and 
I realised that it was not yet certain we should be in time 
for the ship. It might easily be more than five days to 
the post. I could not know how far the Indian mind had 
been influenced in gauging the distance by a desire to re- 
duce to the smallest possible limit the amount of tobacco 
the men would need to retain for their own use. It was 
not far from the last week in August. Now I felt that 
not simply a day but even an hour might cost me a winter 
in Labrador. 

When the word went forth that we were about to leave, 



180 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

all gathered for the parting. Looking about for some- 
thing which I might carry away with me as a souvenir of 
the visit, my eyes caught the beaded band, which the chief's 
daughter wore on her hair, and stepping towards her I 
touched it to indicate my wish. She drew sharply away and 
said something in tones that had a plainly resentful ring. 
It was, " That is mine." I determined not to be discour- 
aged and made another try. Stretched on a frame to dry 
was a very pretty deer-skin and I had George ask if I might 
have that. That seemed to appeal to them as a not unrea- 
sonable request, and they suggested that I should take one 
already dressed. The woman who had wanted my sweater 
went into the wigwam and brought out one. It was very 
pretty and beautifully soft and white on the inside. She 
again pleaded for the sweater, and as I could not grant 
her request I handed her back the skin; but she bade me 
keep it. They gave George a piece of deer-skin dressed 
without the hair, " to line a pair of mits," they said. 

As they stood about during the last few minutes of our 
stay, the chief's arm was thrown across his little daugh- 
ter's shoulders as she leaned confidingly against him. 
While the parting words were being exchanged he was en- 
gaged in a somewhat absent-minded but none the less suc- 
cessful, examination of her head. Many of the others were 
similarly occupied. There was no evidence of their being 
conscious that there was anything extraordinary in what 



THE BARREN GROUND PEOPLE 181 

they were doing, nor any attempt at concealing it. Appar- 
ently it was as much a matter of course as eating. 

When I said, " Good-bye," they made no move to ac- 
company me to the canoe. 

" Good-bye," said George. " Send us a fair wind." 
Smihngly thej- assured him that they would. In a minute 
we were in the canoe and pushing off from shore. As we 
turned down the lake, all eager to be shortening the dis- 
tance between us and the post, I looked back. Thej- were 
still standing just as we had left them watching us. Tak- 
ing out my handkerchief I waved it over my head. In- 
stantly- the shawls and kerchiefs flew out as they waved a 
response, and with this parting look backward to our 
wilderness friends we turned our faces to Ungava. 



CHAPTER XVII 
THE RACE FOR UNGAVA 

Five days to Ungava! 

Seated in the canoe with time to think I could not seem 
to realise the situation. Indian House Lake ! Five days to 
Ungava ! Oh ! how I wanted it to be true. Ungava, in spite 
of hopes and resolves, had seemed always far away, mys- 
terious, and unattainable, but now it had been suddenly 
thrust forward almost within my reach. If true, this would 
mean the well-nigh certain achievement of my heart's de- 
sire — the completion of my husband's work. Yet there 
were the rapids, where the skill and judgment of the men 
were our safeguards. One little miscalculation and it would 
take but an instant to whelm us in disaster. Still we had 
come so far on the way with success, surely it would be 
given to us to reach the goal in safety. But here inevi- 
tably thought flew to one who had been infinitely worthy 
but who had been denied. 

Five days to Ungava ! and because I so much wished it 
to be true I was afraid, for the hard things of life will 
sometimes make cowards of its pilgrims. 

The Barren Grounds Water was very fair in the morn- 

]82 



THE RACE FOR UNGAVA 18S 

ing sunshine. It was as if, while exploring some great ruin, 
we had chanced into a secret, hidden chamber, the most 
splendid of them all, and when after lunch the promised 
fair wind sprang up, and the canoes with well-filled sails 
were speeding northward, the lake and its guardian hills 
became bluer and more beautiful than ever. 

Nowhere did we find the lake more than two miles wide. 
Long points reaching out from either shore cut off the view 
and seemed to change the course; but in reality they did 
not, for it was always northward. To right and left there 
were the hills, now barren altogether, or again with a nar- 
row belt of " greenwoods " — spruce, balsam, tamarack — 
along the shore. In many places skeleton wigwams marked 
the site of old Nascaupee camps. The hills on the east in 
places rose abruptly from the water, but on the west they 
stood a little back with sand-hills on terraces between and 
an occasional high, wedge-shaped point of sand and loose 
rock reached almost halfway across the lake. Often as I 
looked ahead, the lake seemed to end ; but, the distant point 
passed, it stretched on again into the north till with repeti- 
tion of this experience, it began to seem as if the end would 
never come. Streams entered through narrow openings be- 
tween the hills, or roared down their steep sides. At one 
point the lake narrowed to about a quarter of a mile in 
width where the current was very swift. Beyond this point 
we saw the last caribou of the trip. 

It was a three-year-old doe. She stood at the shore 



184 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

watching us curiously as we came towards her. Then step- 
ping daintily in, she began to swim across. We soon caught 
her up and after playing round her in the canoe for a 
time the men with shouts of laughter headed her inshore 
and George, in the bow, leaning over caught her by the 
tail and we were towed merrily in the wake. Every minute 
I expected the canoe to turn over. However, George was 
soon obliged to relinquish his hold for the doe's feet touched 
bottom and in a moment she was speeding up the steep 
hillside stopping now and then to look back with won- 
dering frightened eyes at the strange creatures she had so 
unexpectedly encountered. 

Here where the caribou were rare, George River mos- 
quitoes made life miserable for us. The flies, which in the 
Nascaupee country had been such a trial to me, had not 
driven the men to the use of their veils except on rare occa- 
sions ; but now they were being worn even out on the lake 
where we were still tormented. Backs and hats were brown 
with the vicious wretches where they would cling waiting 
for a lull in the wind to swarm about our heads in such 
numbers that even their war song made one shiver and 
creep. They were larger by far than any Jersey mosquitoes 
ever dreamed of being, and their bite was like the touch of 
a live coal. Sometimes in the tent a continual patter on the 
roof as they flew against it sounded hke a gentle rain. 

The foot of the lake was finally reached on Monday 
evening, August 21st, at sunset, and we went into camp 



THE RACE FOR UNGAVA 185 

fifty-five to sixty miles from where we had entered it, and 
within sound of the first pitch in the one hundred and thirty 
miles of almost continuous rapids over which we were to 
travel. That night Job had a dream of them. He believed 
in dreams a little and it troubled him. He thought we were 
running in rapids which were very difficult, and becoming 
entrapped in the currents were carried over the brink of a 
fall. In the morning he told his dream, and the others were 
warned of danger ahead. My canoe was to lead the way 
with George in the bow and Job in the stern, while Joe 
and Gilbert were to follow close behind. When we left our 
camp an extra paddle was placed within easy reach of each 
canoe man so that should one snap at a critical moment 
another could instantly replace it. 

This was a new attitude towards the work ahead and as 
we paddled slowly in the direction of the outlet where the 
hills drew together, as if making ready to surround and 
imprison us, my mind was full of vague imaginings con- 
cerning the river. 

Far beyond my wildest thought, however, was the reality. 
Immediately at the outlet the canoes were caught by the 
swift current and for five days we were carried down 
through almost continuous rapids. There were long 
stretches of miles where the slope of the river bed was a 
steep gradient and I held my breath as the canoe shot 
down at toboggan pace. There was not only the slope down 
the course of the river but where the water swung past long 



186 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

points of loose rocks, which reach out from either shore, a 
distinct tilt from one side to the other could be seen, as 
when an engine rounds a bend. There were foaming, roar- 
ing breakers where the river flowed over its bed of boulder 
shallows, or again the water was smooth and apparently 
motionless even where the slope downward was clearly 
marked. 

Standing in the stem of the canoe, guiding it with firm, 
unerring hand. Job scanned the river ahead, choosing out 
our course, now shouting his directions to George in the 
bow, or again to Joe and Gilbert as they followed close 
behind. Usually we ran in the shallow water near shore 
where the rocks of the river bed looked perilously near the 
surface. When the sun shone, sharp points and angles 
seemed to reach up into the curl of the waves, though in 
reality they did not, and often it appeared as if we were 
going straight to destruction as the canoe shot towards 
them. I used to wish the water were not so crystal clear, 
so that I might not see the rocks for I seemed unable to 
accustom myself to the fact that it was not by seeing the 
rocks the men chose the course but by the way the water 
flowed. 

Though our course was usually in shallow water near the 
shore, sometimes for no reason apparent to roe, we turned 
out into the heavier swells of the deeper stronger tide. 
Then faster, and faster, and faster we flew, Job still stand- 
ing in the stern shouting his directions louder and louder 



THE RACE FOR UNGAVA 187 

as the roar of the rapid increased or the way became more 
perilous, till suddenly, I could feel him drop into his seat 
behind me as the canoe shot by a group of boulders, and 
George bending to his paddle with might and main turned 
the bow inshore again. Quick as the little craft had won 
out of the wild rush of water pouring round the outer end 
of this boulder barrier, Job was on his feet again as we 
sped onward, still watching the river ahead that we might 
not become entrapped. Sometimes when it was possible 
after passing a particularly hard and dangerous place we 
ran into a quiet spot to watch Joe and Gilbert come 
through. This was almost more exciting than coming 
through myself. 

But more weird and uncanny than wildest cascade or 
rapid was the dark vision which opened out before us at the 
head of Slanting Lake. The picture in my memory still 
seems unreal and mysterious, but the actual one was as dis- 
turbing as an evil dream. 

Down, down, down the long slope before us, to where 
four miles away Hades Hills lifted an uncompromising 
barrier across the way, stretched the lake and river, black 
as ink now under leaden sky and shadowing hills. The lake, 
which was three-quarters of a mile wide, dipped not only 
with the course of the river but appeared to dip also from 
one side to the other. Not a ripple or touch of white could 
be seen anywhere. All seemed motionless as if an unseen 
hand had touched and stilled it. A death-like quiet reigned 



188 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

and as we glided smoothly down with the tide we could 
see all about us a soft, boiling motion at the surface of this 
black flood, which gave the sense of treachery as well as 
mystery. As I looked down the long slope to where the 
river appeared to lose itself into the side of the mountain 
it seemed to me that there, if anywhere, the prophecy of 
Job's dream must be fulfilled. Cerberus might easily be 
waiting for us there. He would have scarcely time to fawn 
upon us till we should go shooting past him into the Pit. 

But after all the river was not shallow up in the moun- 
tain. It only turned to the west and swifter than ever, we 
flew down with its current, no longer smooth and dark, but 
broken into white water over a broader bed of smooth-worn 
boulders, till three miles below we passed out into a quiet 
expansion, where the tension relaxed and with minds at 
ease we could draw in long, satisfying breaths. 

The travelling day was a short one during this part of 
the trip, and I wondered often how the men stood the strain. 
Once I asked Job if running rapids did not tire him very 
much. He answered, " Yes," with a smile and look of sur- 
prise that I should understand such a thing. 

The nights were made hideous by the mosquitoes, and I 
slept little. The loss of sleep made rapid running trying, 
and after a particularly bad night I would sit trembling 
with excitement as we raced down the slope. It was most 
difficult to resist the impulse to grasp the sides of the 
canoe, and to compel myself instead to sit with hands 



THE RACE FOR UNGAVA 189 

clasped about my knee, and muscles relaxed so that my body 
might lend itself to the motion of the canoe. Sometimes 
as we ran towards the west the river glittered so in the 
afternoon sunshine that it was impossible to tell what the 
water was doing. This made it necessary to land now and 
again, so that Job might go forward and look over the 
course. As the bow of the canoe turned inshore, the cur- 
rent caught the stern and whirled it round with such force 
and suddenness, that only the quick setting of a paddle on 
the shoreward side kept the little craft from being dashed 
to pieces against the rocks. 

On Thursday, August 24th, I wrote in my diary : — 
" Such a nice sleep last night albeit blankets and 
' comfortable ' so wet (the stopper of my hot-water bottle 
had not been properly screwed in the night before and 
they were soaked). Beautiful morning. Mountains ahead 
standing out against the clear sky with delicate clouds of 
white mist hanging along their sides or veiling the tops. 
One just at the bend is very, very fine. It reminds me of 
an Egyptian pyramid. Job is not feeling well this morn- 
ing and it bothers me. I asked him if it were too many 
rapids. He smiled and said, ' I don't know,' but as if he 
thought that might be the trouble. 

''Later. — Just a little below our camp we found a river 
coming in with a wild rush from the east. It was the largest 
we had yet seen and we wondered if our reckoning could 
be so far out that this might be the river not far from the 



190 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

post of which the Nascaupees had told us. Then so anxious 
for the noon observation and so glad to have a fine day for 
it. Result 57° 43' 28''. That settled it, but all glad to be 
rapidly lessening the distance between us and Ungava. 

" After noon, more rapids and I got out above one of 
them to walk. I climbed up the river wall to the high, sandy 
terrace above. This great wall of packed boulders is one 
of the most characteristic features of the lower river. It 
is thrown up by the action of ice in the spring floods, 
and varies all the way from twenty feet at its beginning to 
fifty and sixty feet farther down. One of the remarkable 
things about it is that the largest boulders lie at the top, 
some of them so huge as to weigh tons. On the terrace, 
moss berries and blue berries were so thick as to make walk- 
ing slippery. The river grows more magnificent all the 
time. I took one photograph of the sun's rays slanting 
down through a rift in the clouds, and lighting up the 
mountains in the distance. I am feeling wretched over, not 
having more films. How I wish I had brought twice as 
many. 

" While running the rapid George and Job were nearly 
wrecked. Job changed his mind about the course a little 
too late and they had a narrow escape. They were whirled 
round and banged up against a cliff with the bottom of 
the canoe tipped to the rock and held there for a while, but 
fortunately did not turn over till an unusually tempestuous 
rush of water reached up and lifted the canoe from its 



THE RACE FOR UXGAVA 191 

perch down into the water again. Then tying a rope at 
either end they clambered out to a precarious perch on a 
slope in the cliff. By careful manoeuvring they succeeded 
in turning the canoe round and getting in again, thus 
escaping from the trap. Joe and Gilbert came through 
without mishap. Practically the whole river from Indian 
House Lake is like a toboggan slide. I shall be glad for 
everyone, and especially for Job, when we have left the 
rapids behind. He says he feels better to-night. Saw fresh 
caribou tracks upon the terrace. Have been finding beau- 
tiful bunches of harebell (Cornua uniflora) in the clefts 
of the rocks along the river. They are very lovely. Once 
to-day the lonely cry of a wolf came down to us from high 
up on the mountain side. The mountains are splendid. We 
are in the midst of scenes which have a decidedly Norwegian 
look. Have passed one river and several good-sized streams 
coming in from the east and one of some size from west, but 
we have seen nothing from the west which could be called 
a river. Much more water comes in from the east. 

" As we turned northward this evening just above camp 
a wind came up the valley, that felt as if straight from 
the Arctic. Fire in an open place to-night, and I do not 
like to go out to supper. It is so cold. Thinking now we 
may possibly get to the post day after to-morrow. George 
says he thinks the river must be pretty straight from here. 
I rather think it will take us a little more than two days. 
All feel that we may have good hope of catching the 



192 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

steamer. Perhaps we shall get to tide water to-morrow. 
There have been signs of porcupine along the way to-day, 
and one standing wigwam. There is a big bed of moss 
berries (a small black berry, which grows on a species of 
moss and is quite palatable) right at my tent door to-night. 
So strange, almost unbelievable, to think we are coming 
so near to Ungava. I begin to realise that I have never 
actually counted on being able to get there." 

The country grew more and more mountainous and 
rugged and barren. The wood growth, which is of spruce 
and tamarack, with here and there a little balsam, was for 
some distance below the Barren Grounds Water rather more 
abundant than it had been along the lake shores. At best 
it was but a narrow belt along the water edge covering the 
hills to a height of perhaps two hundred feet and dwindling 
gradually toward the north, till in some places it was ab- 
sent altogether and our tents were pitched where no trees 
grew. The ridges on either side crossed each other almost 
at right angles, turning the river now to the northeast, 
again to the northwest. Down the mountain sides, broad 
bands of white showed where the waters of numberless 
lakes and streams on the heights came tumbling down to 
join the river, or again a great gap in the solid mountain 
of rock let through a rush of blue-green, foaming water. 
The hills have the characteristic Cambrian outline and it 
is the opinion of Mr. Low that this formation extends con- 



THE RACE FOR UNGAVA 193 

tinuously eastward from the Kaniapiscau to the George. 
The mountains on the right bank were more rugged and 
irregular than those on the left, and Bridgman Mountains 
in places stand out to the river quite distinct and separate, 
like giant forts. On the morning of August 24th they had 
closed round us as if to swallow us up, and gazing back 
from our lunching place George said, with something of 
awe in his tone, " It looks as if we had just got out of 
prison." 

And still the river roared on down through its narrow 
valley, at Helen Falls dropping by wild and tempestuous 
cascades, and then by almost equally wild rapids, to a mile 
below where it shoots out into an expansion with such ter- 
rific force as to keep this great rush of water above the 
general level for some distance out into the lake. Here we 
made the longest portage of the journey down the George 
River, carrying the stuff one and a quarter mile. 

Below Helen Falls the mountains spread in a wider 
sweep to the sea, and the river gradually increased in 
width as it neared Ungava. Still it flowed on in rapids. 
So often we had asked each other, " Will they never end? " 
However, in the afternoon on August 26th, we reached 
smooth water, and had a few hours' paddling. Then dark- 
ness began to close in. If only we could keep on ! I knew 
from my observation that day we could not be many miles 
from our journey's end now; but it was not to be that we 



194 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

should reach our destination that night, and camp was 
pitched at a point, which I thought must be about seven 
or eight miles above the post. 

It was very disappointing, and when George said, " If 
the ship is there they will be sure to try to get off Satur- 
day night," I felt rather desperate. Still it would not do 
to take chances with the George River in the dark. 

In spite of anxieties I slept that night but felt quite 
strung in the morning. At breakfast I used the last of the 
crystalose in my tea. It seemed very wonderful that the lit- 
tle ounce bottle of this precious sweet had lasted us as long 
as sixty pounds of sugar. There was just a little of our 
tea left, and I filled the bottle with it to keep as a souvenir 
of the trip. The remainder I put into one of the water- 
proof salt-shakers and this I gave to George. I learned 
later that there was a bit of quiet fun among the men as 
I did it. They had no great faith in my calculations, and 
it was their opinion that the tea would probably taste quite 
good at lunch. 

After what seemed an unnecessarily long time, the camp 
things were again in the canoe and we were off. About a 
mile below the camp we found that the rapids were not yet 
passed. Here a heavy though short one made a portage 
necessary and then we dropped down to where the river 
spreads out to two miles or more in width. For several 
miles we paddled on in smooth water, the river swinging a 
little to the west. How eagerly I watched the point where 



THE RACE FOR UNGAVA 195 

it turned again to the north for beyond that we should 
see the post. As we neared the bend there was an exciting 
escape from running into an unsuspected rapid. Nothing 
\5^as to be seen ahead but smooth water. The wind was 
from the south and not a sound was heard till, suddenly, 
we found ourselves almost upon the brink of the slope, 
and only by dint of hard paddling reached the shore just 
at its edge. It was the first and only time we had been 
caught in this way. Again came the question, *' Will they 
never end.'"' 

The rapids stretched on before us turbulent and noisy, 
as before, first west then swinging abruptly to the north. 
Joe and Gilbert decided to portage across the point, but 
George and Job after much consideration prepared to run 
down in the canoe while I walked across to the little bay 
below. 

As they were starting off I said to George, " When you 
get out beyond those points you should be able to see 
the island opposite the post." 

" All right, I'll watch for it," he replied with a smile, 
and they started. 

Pushing off, they worked the canoe cautiously out to 
where they meant to take the rapid. It was something 
more of a feat then they had looked for, and suddenly 
after strenuous but ineffectual efforts to make the canoe do 
what they wanted, they dropped into the bottom, and to my 
amazement I saw it shoot forward stern foremost into the 



196 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

rapid. The men had been quick as the water though, and in 
dropping to their places had turned about, so that they 
were not quite helpless. I stood watching them, hardly 
daring to breathe. 

The canoe danced like an autumn leaf in the swells of 
the rapid, and Job's excited shouting came faintly over the 
sound of the water. At what a pace they were going ? Was 
the canoe under control? I could not tell. What would 
happen when they reached the point where the water swings 
round to the north again? In an agony of suspense I 
watched and waited. Now they were nearing the critical 
point. And — now — they had passed it, and with a wild 
cry of triumph turned towards the little bay below. As 
they drew in to where I waited for them, George waved his 
cap to me and shouted, " I saw the island." 

We passed out beyond the point below and there it lay 
some miles away, in the quiet water, with the sunshine of 
the calm Sabbath morning flooding down upon it. But the 
post was not yet in sight. Quite out of harmony with the 
still dignity of the day and the scenes of desolate gran- 
deur about was the mind within me. The excitement at the 
rapid had seemed to increase the strain I was under, and 
every moment it became more intense. I did wish that the 
men would not chat and laugh in the unconcerned way they 
were doing, and they paddled as leisurely as if I were not 
in a hurry at all. If only I could reach the post and ask 
about the ship ! If only I might fly out over the water with- 



THE RACE FOR UNGAVA 197 

out waiting for these leisurely paddles ! And now, from 
being in an agony of fear for their lives, my strong desire 
was to take them by their collars and knock their heads to- 
gether hard. This was not practicable in the canoe, how- 
ever, and I was fain to control myself as best I might. 

Once I said to George, " Do hurry a little," and for two 
minutes he paddled strenuously ; but soon it was again the 
merry chat and the leisurely dip, dip of the paddles. I 
think they were laughing at me a little and had also in 
their minds the fun it would be to see me bring out my 
precious tea again for lunch. 

Suddenly we descried a white speck on a point some dis- 
tance away, and drawing nearer saw people moving about. 
Then we discovered that a boat was out at some nets, and 
on reaching it found an Eskimo fisherman and his son 
taking in the catch. He smiled broadly as he came to the 
end of his boat to shake hands with us, and my heart 
sank dully, for his face and manner plainly indicated that 
he had been expecting us. This could only be explained by 
the fact that the ship had been to the post bringing with 
her the news of my attempted crossing. We spoke to him 
in English, which he seemed to understand, but replied in 
Eskimo, which we were helpless to make anything of, and 
after a vain struggle for the much desired news as to the 
ship, we left him and proceeded on our way. 

I sat thinking desperately of the Eskimo, of the way 
he had received us and its portent. There could be only 



198 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

one explanation. I had no heart now for the competition 
as to who should first sight the post. Yet how we hope 
even when there is nothing left to us but the absence of 
certainty ! I could not quite give up yet. Suddenly George 
exclaimed, " There it is." Somehow he seemed nearly al- 
ways to see things first. 

There it was deep in a cove, on the right bank of the 
river, a little group of tiny buildings nestling in at the 
foot of a mountain of solid rock. It seemed almost micro- 
scopic in the midst of such surroundings. The tide was 
low and a great, boulder-strewn, mud flat stretched from 
side to side of the cove. Down from the hills to the east 
flowed a little stream winding its way through a tortuous 
channel as it passed out to the river. We turned into it and 
followed it up, passing between high mud-banks which ob- 
scured the post till we reached a bend where the channel 
bore away to the farther side of the cove. Then to my 
surprise the men suddenly changed paddles for poles and 
turning the bows inshore poled right on up over the mud- 
bank. It was such a funny and novel performance that it 
snapped the spell for me, and I joined with the men in 
their shouts of laughter over the antics of the canoe on the 
slippery mud-bank. When we finally reached the top and 
slid out on to the flat, we saw a man, who we supposed 
must be Mr. Ford, the agent at the post, coming over the 
mud with his retinue of Eskimo to meet us. 

We were all on our feet now waiting. When he came 



THE RACE FOR UNGAVA 199 

within hearing, I asked if he were Mr. Ford, and told 
him who I was and how I had come there. Then came the, 
for me, great question, " Has the ship been here? " 

He said, " Yes." 

" And gone again ? " 

"Yes. That is — what ship do you mean.? Is there 
any other ship expected here than the Company's ship.f^ " 

" No, it is the Company's ship I mean, the Pelican. 
Has she been here ? " 

" Yes," he said, " she was here last September. I ex- 
pect her in September again, about the middle of the 
month or later." 



CHAPTER XVIII 

THE RECKONING 

There are times when that which constitutes one's inner 
self seems to cease. So it was with me at the moment Mr. 
Ford uttered those last words. My heart should have 
swelled with emotion, but it did not. I cannot remember 
any time in my life when I had less feeling. 

Mr. Ford was asking me to come with him to the post 
house, and looking at my feet. Then George was seen 
to rummage in one of the bags and out came my seal-skin 
boots which I had worn but once, mainly because the woman 
at Northwest River post who made them had paid me the 
undeserved compliment of making them too small. My 
" larigans," which had long ago ceased to have any water- 
proof qualities, were now exchanged for the seal-skins, and 
thus fortified I stepped out into the slippery mud. So with 
a paddle as staff in one hand and Mr. Ford supporting me 
by the other, I completed my journey to the post. 

At the foot of the hill below the house, Mrs. Ford stood 
waiting. Her eyes shone like stars as she took my hand 
and said, " You are very welcome, Mrs. Hubbard. Yours 
is the first white woman's face I have seen for two years." 

200 



THE RECKONING 201 

We went on up the hill to the house. I do not remember 
what we talked about, I only remember Mrs. Ford's eyes, 
which were very blue and very beautiful now in her ex- 
citement. And when we reached the little piazza and I 
turned to look back, there were the men sitting quietly in 
the canoes. The Eskimo had drawn canoes, men and out- 
fit across the mud to where a little stream slipped down 
over a gravelly bed, which offered firmer footing, and were 
now coming in single file towards the post each with a bag 
over his shoulder. 

Why were the men sitting there.? Why did they not 
come too ? 

Suddenly I realised that with our arrival at the post our 
positions were reversed. They were my charges now. They 
had completed their task and what a great thing they had 
done for me. They had brought me safely, triumphantly 
on my long journey, and not a hair of my head had been 
harmed. They had done it too with an innate courtesy and 
gentleness that was beautiful, and I had left them without 
a word. With a dull feeling of helplessness and limitation 
I thought of how differently another would have done. No 
matter how I tried, I could never be so generous and self- 
forgetful as he. In the hour of disappointment and lone- 
liness, even in the hour of death, he had taken thought so 
generously for his companions. I, in the hour of my tri- 
umph, had forgotten mine. We were like Light and Dark- 
ness and with the light gone how deep was the darkness. 



202 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Once I had thought I stood up beside him, but in what a 
school had I learned that I only reached to his feet. And 
now all my effort, though it might achieve that which he 
would be glad and proud of, could never bring him back. 

I must go back to the men at once ; and leaving Mr. and 
Mrs. Ford I slipped down the hill again, and out along the 
little stream across the cove. They came to meet me when 
they saw me coming and Heaven alone knows how inade- 
quate were the words with which I tried to thank them. We 
came up the hill together now, and soon the tents were 
pitched out among the willows. As I watched them from the 
post window busy about their new camping ground, it was 
with a feeling of genuine loneliness that I realised that I 
should not again be one of the little party. 

Later came the reckoning, which may be summed up 
as follows : — 

Length of Journey : — 576 miles from post to post 
(with 30 miles additional to Ungava Bay covered later in 
the post yacht Lily), 

Time : — June £7th to August 27th. Forty-three days 
of actual travelling, eighteen days in camp. 

Provisions : — 750 lbs. to begin with, 392 lbs. of which 
was flour. Surplus, including gifts to Nascaupee Indians, 
150 lbs., 105 lbs. of which was flour, making the average 
amount consumed by each member of the party, 57% lbs. 

Results: — The pioneer maps of the Nascaupee and 
George Rivers, that of the Nascaupee showing Seal Lake 



THE RECKONING ^03 

and Lake Micliikamau to be in the same drainage basin 
and which geographers had supposed were two distinct 
rivers, the Northwest and the Nascaupee, to be one and the 
same, the outlet of Lake Michikamau carrying its waters 
through Seal Lake and thence to Lake Melville ; with some 
notes by the way on the topography, geology, flora and 
fauna of the country traversed. 

It is not generally borne in mind by those who have 
been interested in Mr. Hubbard and his last venture, that 
he did not plan his outfit for the trip which they made. 
The failure to find the open waterway to Lake Michikamau, 
which has already been discussed, made the journey almost 
one long portage to the great lake. But even so, if the sea- 
son of unprecedented severity in which my husband made 
his journey, could have been exchanged for the more 
normal one in which I made mine, he would still have re- 
turned safe and triumphant, when there would have been 
only praises for his courage, fortitude and skill in over- 
coming the difficulties which lie across the way of those 
who would search out the hidden and untrod ways. 

Nevertheless rising far above either praise or blame 
stands the beauty of that message which came out from the 
lonely tent in the wilderness. In utter physical weakness, 
utter loneliness, in the face of defeat and death, my hus- 
band wrote that last record of his life, so triumphantly 
characteristic, which turned his defeat to a victory im- 



204 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

measurably higher and more beautiful than the success of 
his exploring venture could ever have been accounted, and 
thus was compassed the higher purpose of his life. 

For that it had been given to me to fulfill one of those 
lesser purposes by which he planned to build up a whole, 
that would give him the right to stand among those who 
had done great things worthil}^, I was deeply grateful. The 
work was but imperfectly done, yet I did what I could. 

The hills were white with snow when the ship came to 
Ungava. She had run on a reef in leaving Cartwright, her 
first port of call on the Labrador coast ; her keel was ripped 
out from stem to stern, and for a month she had lain in 
dry dock for repairs at St. John's, Newfoundland. It was 
October 22nd when I said good-bye to my kind friends 
at the post and in ten days the Pelican landed us safe at 
Rigolette. Here I had the good fortune to be picked up 
by a steamer bound for Quebec; but the wintry weather 
was upon us and the voyage dragged itself out to three 
times its natural length, so that it was the evening of 
November 20th, just as the sun sank behind the city, that 
the little steamer was docked at Quebec, and I stepped from 
her decks to set foot once again in " God's country." 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 

KEPT DURING HIS EXPEDITIOX IXTO LABRADOR 

Tuesday, July *7th. — Last night moonlight and starry 
and fine. This morning the shore of Labrador spread out 
before us in the sunshine. It calls ever so hard, and I am 
hungry to tackle it. Landed this a.m. at Indian Harbour. 
George and I went ashore in the canoe; Wallace in ship's 
boat. Lot of fishermen greeted us. Find all men and women 
on the coast are Newfoundland men, and " Liveyeres " 
(Live-heres). The former come up to fish in summer and 
are the aristocrats. The latter are the under-crust. Could 
not get any one to take us to Rigolette. Spent the after- 
noon getting outfit together — assorting and packing — ■ 
weighing it and trying it in the canoe, while Hne of New- 
foundland salts looked on, commented, and asked good- 
natured questions. Canoe 18 feet, guide's special. Old- 
town, canvas. Weight about 80. Tent — miner's tent, 
pole in front, balloon silk, weight 6 lbs., dimensions 
6V2 X T. Three pairs 3-lb. blankets ; two tarpaulins 
about 6 X ^ ; three pack straps ; two 9-inch duck water- 
proof bags, hold 40 lbs. each ; three 12-inch bags ; 
3%, X 414 kodak; 30 rolls films, one dozen exposures 
each, in tin cases with electrician's tape water-proofing ; 
one dozen small waterproof bags of balloon silk, for sugar, 

205 



206 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

chocolate, note-books and sundries. Wallace and I each 
have one extra light weight 45-70 rifle, smokeless pow- 
der. Also one pistol each, diamond model, 10-inch barrel, 
for partridges. For grub we have four 45-lb. sacks of 
flour; 30 lbs. bacon; 20 lbs. lard; 30 lbs. sugar; 14 lbs. 
salt ; 3 or 4 lbs. dried apples from home ; 10 lbs. rice ; 
20 lbs. erbswurst ; 10 lbs. pea flour in tins ; 10 lbs. tea ; 
5 lbs. coffee ; 6 chocolate ; 10 hard-tack ; 10 lbs. dried 
milk. Put all in canoe, got in ourselves, and found we 
could carry it O. K. 

Wednesday, July 8th. — Took observation at noon. 
Lat. 54° 28'. Steve Newell, a liveyere from Winter's 
Cove, off*ered to take us to Rigolette for fifteen dollars. 
" Would I give him $1 to get a bit of grub for his fam- 
ily? " Got flour and molasses. Started in the Mayflower , a 
leaky little craft, about 5 p.m. No wind to speak of. 
Cold drizzle and fog. About 11 we landed at Winter's 
Cove. Nasty place to land among the rocks on a desolate 
point. From a shanty on the beach came a yelling and 
hallooing from several voices to know who we were and 
what we were doing. Went into cabin, two rooms — one 
frame and the other sod. Room about 12 X 14 — desolate. 
Two women like furies — ragged, haggard, brown, hair 
streaming. One had baby in her arms ; two small girls and 
a boy. One of women Steve's mother. Dirty place, but 
better than the chilling fog. Glad to get in. Fire started. 
Stove smoked till room was full. Little old lamp, no chim- 
ney. We made coff*ee and gave coff'ee and hard-tack to 
all. Women went into other room with children. We 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 207 

spread tarpaulin and blankets, and lay on floor; so did 
Steve. Women talked loudly. 

Thursday y July 9th. — Started at 5 a.m., launching 
boat after Steve had said, " Don't know as we can launch 
'er, sir." Fog. Offered Steve chart and compass. " Ain't 
got no learnin', sir. I can't read." So I directed course in 
fog and Steve steered. Later, clear, fair, high wind. 
Steve cool, nervy, tireless. He traps foxes and shoots part- 
ridges in winter. Buys flour and molasses. Got too windy 
to travel. Landed at Big Black Island to wait for lower 
wind. George used up — lumbago. Put him to bed and 
put on mustard plaster. Bought salmon of Joe Lloyd. 
Lives in 10 X 1^ shanty, hole in roof for smoke to escape. 
Eskimo wife. " Is all the world at peace, sir.^^ " He came 
from England. Hungry for news. Had trout smoking in 
chimney. A little wood on this island, and moss, thick and 
soft. Wind high, and George sick, so did not go on. Gave 
George two blankets and tarpaulin. Did not pitch tent. 
Wallace and I threw tent down and lay on it. Pulled his 
blanket over us and slept. Still sunlight at 11. Whales 
snorting in the bay. Big gulls croaking. 

Friday, July 10th, — Awoke at 1 a.m. Bright moon- 
light, made coff'ee and milk. Called men. George very bad. 
Portaged outfit 200 yards to boat. Found her high. 
Worked till 4.30 to launch her. Little wind. Made Pom- 
pey Island at 11. Saw many whales and seals. Caught 
caplin on fish-hook tied to stick jerking them. Stopped 
on Pompey for lunch. Mossy island of Laurentian rock. 



208 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Saw steamer in distance. Put off — fired three or four 
shots. Got only a salute. Put off in canoe to head her off. 
She came about. Was the Virginia Lake. Took us on 
board and brought us to Rigolette. Mr. Frazer, H.B.C. 
Agent here, to whom I had letter from Commissioner 
Chippman of the H.B. Co., took us in, as the Company's 
men always do. Made us at home. Seems fine to be on 
land again at a Company post. George better. Eskimo 
dogs. Eskimo men and women, breeds lumbermen, trappers, 
fishermen, two clerks. All kindly — even the dogs. All 
talkative and hungry for outside visitors. 

Saturday, July Wth. — Awoke from bad dream of 
trouble getting somewhere to realise that I was at a post. 
Mighty good awakening. George better. Trying to get 
data as to Northwest River. No Indians here. White men 
and Eskimo know little about it. Capt. Joe Blake says 
Grand Lake good paddling. Forty miles long. Nascaupee 
River empties into it. Says Red River comes into it about 
15 miles above its mouth. His son Donald came from his 
traps on Seal Lake to-day. Says same. Has crossed it about 
50 miles above its mouth in winter. Has heard from some 
one that Montagnais Indians say it comes from Michi- 
kamau. Does not know. Says it is shallow. This seems 
to be what Low has mapped as Northwest River. Donald 
says not much game on it. Others who have not been there, 
say plenty. All report bear. Man who lives on river just 
above Grand Lake in winter to trap, missing. Supposed 
drowned. Donald says a chance seal in Seal Lake. Has 
shot 'em but never killed one. Little game there to eat. 
May be fish. Does not know. Docs not fish himself. Takes 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 209 

flour, pork, tea and " risin." Porcupines. We can live on 
them. Hard to get definite data ; but that makes the work 
bigger. 

Sunday y July 12th. — Birthday. " Bruise " for break- 
fast. Hard-tack, fish, pork, boiled together — good. " Two 
more early risin's, and then duff and bruise," is said to be 
a Thursday remark of the fishermen. The Pelican came 
in to-day. Stole in in fog, and whistled before flag was 
up. Good joke on Post. Big day. Pelican goes from here 
to York, stopping at Ungava on way out and comes back 
again. Brings supplies. Captain Gray came on shore. Has 
been with company thirty years, in northern waters fifty 
years. Jolly, cranky, old fellow. " You'll never get back " 
he says to us. " If you are at Ungava when I get there 
I'll bring you back." Calder, lumberman on Grand River 
and Sandwich Bay, here says we can't do it. Big Salmon 
stuffed and baked for dinner — bully. George says he is 
ready to start now. Prophecies that we can't do it, don't 
worry me. Have heard them before. Can do it. WILL. 

Monday, July ISth. — This noon the Julia Sheridan, 
Deep Sea Mission Boat, Dr. Simpson, came. We said 
good-bye and embarked for Northwest River. Had good 
informal supper in little cabin. Good easy yachting time. 
Stopped about 11 p.m. behind St. John's Island for the 
night. 

Tuesday, July 14^th. — Landed about S p.m. at North- 
west River. Thomas M'Kenzie in charge. Bully fellow, 
all alone, lonesome, but does not admit it. Tall, wiry, hos- 



210 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

pitable in the extreme. Not busy in winter. Traps some. 
Wishes he could go with us. Would pack up to-night and 
be ready in the morning. Can get no definite information 
as to our route. M'Kenzie says we are all right ; can make 
it of course. Gave away bag of flour. Discarded single 
blanket, 5 lbs. can lard. Got at Rigolette yesterday, 10 
lbs. sugar, 5 lbs. dried apples, 4^ lbs. tobacco. Bought 
here 5 lbs. sugar. M'Kenzie gave me an 8 lb. 3 in. gill 
net. 

Wednesday y July 15th. — Wind light, southeast all day, 
light clouds. Lat. noon 53° 35'. Left Northwest River Post 
9 A.M. Camped early because of rain and stream which 
promised trout. No trout caught. Lake looks like Lake 
George, with lower hills. Much iron ore crops from bluffs 
on south side. Makes me a bit homesick to think of Lake 
George. Wish I could see my girl for a while and be back 
here. Would like to drop in at the Michigan farm too. 

Thursday y July IQth. — Fair day. Wind southeast. 
Lat. at noon 53° 45. Six miles above Grand Lake on 
Northwest River. Started at 5.30 a.m. At 9 rounded 
point and saw mouth of river. George and I ferried outfit 
across northwest arm of lake in two loads. Wind too high 
for whole load. Saw steel trap. Probably belonged to 
poor M'Lean, who was drowned. Had cup of tea at 10. 
Stopped at noon three-quarters of an hour for observa- 
tion. Northwest River runs through spruce-covered val- 
ley, between high hills, easily seen from lake, but not in 
river as spruce is too close. In many places high banks, 
many turns, many little rapids. Water low. Have to pole 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 211 

and track. See that we have our work cut out. Doubt 
if we can make more than 10 miles a day up this river. I 
took tracking hne ; George and Wallace the poles. Sand 
flies awful — nasty, vindictive, bite out chunks, and streak 
our hands and faces with blood. Mosquitoes positively 
friendly by contrast. Tried net. Could not see, then tried 
dope — some help. Eating much and not rustling for fish 
or game. Want to lighten outfit. 

Friday^ July lltJi.- — Rain and clouds. Rained hard in 
the night. Awoke dreading to start out in it. Got break- 
fast to let George sleep. Water so shoal and swift that 
we would take part of outfit and return for the rest. Most 
places had to track, I pulling on rope while Wallace and 
George waded, and pushed and dragged the canoe. 

Saturday, July 18th. — Bright, clear day. Lat. 53° 45' 
30''. Started out with full load and kept it most of the 
day. Had to portage half load a few times. Awful work 
all day. Rapids continuously. I waded with line while 
George and Wallace dragged and lifted. All enjoyed the 
forenoon's work, and no one depressed when p.m. weariness 
began. No game. Bear and some caribou tracks. Have 
not seen a partridge or porcupine. Seem to be few fish. 
They come later and farther on. 

Sunday, July 19th. — Minimum temp, last night 38°. 
Fine day and warm. Stayed in camp all day to rest. I 
got up at 7 and caught about twenty trout, small. All 
pretty tired and enjo3ed the long sleep. At noon George 
and I started up the river, following the hills. Found small 



212 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

rocky stream coming in about 1 mile up. Suppose it is 
the Red Wine River. Two miles up a 2-mile stretch of 
good water. Best of all the portage route leading in at 
the foot. We followed this over the hill to the Red Wine 
River, and found old cuttings. This pleases us a heap. 
It shows that we are on the old Montagnais trail, that we 
will probably have their portage routes clear through, and 
that they probably found lakes and good water farther 
up, or they would never have fought this bad water. To- 
morrow we will tackle the 2-mile portage with light hearts. 
We are 3 miles south of where Low's map places us. Am 
beginning to suspect that the Nascaupee River, which 
flows through Seal Lake, also comes out of Michikamau, 
and that Low's map is wrong. Bully stunt if it works out 
that way. Saw lots of caribou and fresh bear tracks. Trout 
went fine for supper. Flies very bad. Our wrists burn all 
the time. 

Monday^ July ^Oth. — Minimum temp, last night 37°. 
Bright day. Flies awful. I got breakfast while George 
cut portage through swamp, and then we groaned all day 
— through the swamp l^/o miles — across two streams, up 
steep hill, then along old trail to foot of smooth water 
above these rapids. Covered route mainly three times. All 
very tired. George worked like a hero. 

Tuesday, July 21st. — Minimum temp. 36°. Trapped 
bad three-quarter mile. George and I scouted ahead 6 
miles. Climbed hills 600 feet high. Caribou and bear 
tracks. Crossed two or three creeks. Found old trail and 




A RAINY CAMP 



WORKING UP SHALLOW WATER 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 213 

wigwam poles and wood. George says winter camp from 
size of wood; can't follow it. Tracked quarter mile more, 
and started on long portage. Went half mile and camped. 
Flies bad; gets cold after dark, then no flies. Stars, fir 
tops, crisp air, camp fire, sound of river, hopeful hearts. 
Nasty hard work, but this pays for it. 

Wednesday, July ^9.nd, — Minimum temp. 33°, 60° in 
tent at 6 a.m. Torture. All work to cross 2% mile por- 
tage. Sun awful. Flies hellish. All too tired to eat at 
noon. Cold tea and cold erbswurst. Cached 80 rounds 
45-70 cartridges, 300-22s. too heavy. Too tired at last to 
mind flies. Rested hour under tent front, all of us. 
Diarrhoea got me — too much water drinking yesterday I 
guess. Shot partridge, first seen on trip. Jumped up on 
log before me, waited for me to drop pack and load pistol. 
Camp on partridge point. Bird seasoned a pot of erbs- 
wurst. Dreamed about home as I worked and rested. 

Thursday, July 2Srd, — George and Wallace scouted 
for trails and lakes. I lay in tent, diarrhoea. Took Sun 
Cholera Mixture. Tore leaves from Low's book and cover 
from this diary. These and similar economies lightened my 
bag about 5 lbs. New idea dawned on me as I lay here map 
gazing. Portage route leaves this river and runs into 
southeast arm of Michikamau. Will sec how guess turns 
out. Heat in tent awful — at noon 104°; out of tent at 
1 P.M. 92°. Diarrhoea continued all day. No food but tea 
and a bit of hard-tack. George back about 7.30. Wal- 
lace not back. Not worried. Has probably gone a little 



214 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

too far and will stay out. Has tin cup and erbswurst. 
George reports branching of river and a good stretch of 
calm water. 

Friday y July 9,^th. — George produced yellowlegs shot 
yesterday. He carried pack up river 2 miles. Diarrhoea. 
In tent I studied how to take time with sextant. Observa- 
tion failed. Much worried over Wallace till he came in 
about 7 P.M. Compass went wrong; he lay out overnight. 
Stewed yellowlegs and pea meal to-night. 

Saturday^ July 25th. — Four miles. Weak from 
diarrhoea. Portaged one load each 4 miles south side of 
stream to open water. Back to camp. I took another load; 
George and Wallace followed, trying to drag canoe up 
river. I made camp. They came in after dark, tired out. 
Canoe left 2 miles down stream. Wallace shot partridge 
with pistol. Came near going over falls with pack round 
his neck. Drizzled all day. Heavy rain to-night. Great 
relief from heat. Flies very bad in afternoon and evening. 

Sunday, July 26th. — Rain most of the day. Lay in 
tent in a.m. hoping to be better of diarrhoea. Read Low's 
report, etc. Trouble better. 

Monday, July 21th. — Spent a.m. and two hours p.m. 
bringing up canoe, dragging half way, George carrying 
rest. Started on at 4. Alternate pools and rapids. Rapids 
not bad — go up by dragging and tracking. After 1% 
mile camped. 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 215 

Tuesday, July ^8th. — Temp. 6 a.m. 46°. Three miles. 
Cool, cloudy, spell of sunshine now and then. Cold, nasty 
wading all a.m. to make a mile. Fine portaging in p.m., 
just cool enough, no flies. Pretty nearly blue in a.m. over 
lack of progress. Two miles in p.m. brightened things up. 
By fire between logs we dry clothes now in evening. All 
tired out. Low new moon. 

Wednesday, July 29^/i.— Temp. 6 a.m. 58°. Worked 
4 miles. Small ponds alternating with rapids. Portage 1 
mile in p.m. Very tired. Tea, and finished fine. 

Thursday, July SOth, — Temp. 6 a.m. 39°. Paddled 
through a succession of ponds about a quarter of a mile 
long each, tracking or dragging over little falls or rapids 
between. Made portage of 100 rods in p.m. Need fish now. 
Grub not so heavy as it was. Were starting to dry blankets 
at fire when rain started. All crawled into tent. Need rain 
to raise river. Plenty caribou signs — two old wigwams 
(winter) on rock. No fish but 6-7 inch trout. Bully camp 
to-night. 

Friday, July Slst, — Temp. 6 a.m. 56°. Rain all day. 
Two rivers puzzled us. Came together just above our camp. 
One comes over a fall from the south side; other rough, 
comes from northwest. South branch comes from west, 
better, more level. Little ponds between falls and short 
rapids. Scouted. Think south branch Low's Northwest 
River. Wallace caught bully mess of trout while George 
and I were scouting. George found old wigwam about a 



216 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

quarter of a mile up south branch; also a winter blaze 
crossing stream north to south, fresh. Trappers' line, think. 
Blake or M'Lean. Wigwam old. Rain bad. River not very 
good, some ponds, some portage, some dragging. Up south 
branch three-quarters of a mile stopped for lunch. Stopped 
after a quarter of a mile portage for a scout. Wallace and 
I made camp in rain while George scouted. George reports 
1% mile bad river, then level, deep ponds, very good. 
Caught trout. Rainy camp. 

Saturday, August 1st. — Rained steadily all night and 
to-day. Tired, chilled, ragged. Wallace not well and things 
damp. Stayed in camp all day. Hoped to dry things out. 
Too much rain. Went out in bare feet and drawers and 
caught ten trout. 

Sunday, August 9,nd. — Cleared this a.m. Boys dried 
camp while I caught twenty-four trout, some half pound- 
ers. Getting bigger, nearer Height of Land we hope 
reason. Water higher. Will help us. Two cans baking 
powder spoiled. Good feed of trout. Not a bit tired of 
trout yet. Observation shows 53° 46' 1^'' lat. Went 3 
miles in p.m. and camped. 

Monday, August 3rd. — Temp. 6 a.m. 56°. Big day. 
At foot of a portage as we were getting ready to pack, 
I saw four wild geese coming down stream. Grabbed rifle, 
four cartridges in it. George got Wallace's rifle. All 
dropped waiting for them to come round bend, 30 ft. 
away. George and I shot at once, both hitting leader. All 
started flapping along on top of water, up stream. I 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 217 

emptied mj rifle on them, going at 40 to 50 yards, killing 
two more. Drew pistol and ran up and into stream and 
shot fourth in neck. Got all and threw fits of joy. Need 
'em just now badly for grub. Through little lake begin- 
ning at head of water, quarter of a mile above, into meadow, 
fresh beaver house. At foot of rapid water, below junc- 
tion of two streams, ate lunch. Trout half to three-quar- 
ter pounds making water boil. Caught several. From this 
point to where river branches to two creeks, we scouted. 
Think found old Montagnais portage. To-night heap big 
feed. George built fire as for bread-baking. 

Tuesday, August 4<th, — Temp. 6 a.m. 56°. Portaged 
1 mile to Montagnais Lake. Portage ran through bogs 
and over low ridges. I sat on edge of lake looking at rod, 
when a caribou waded into lake, not 100 feet away. Rifle 
at other end of poi-tage. Hoped to find inlet to lake, but 
only one ends in bog. Lots of old cuttings at northwest 
corner of lake ; two old wigwams. Troubled to know where 
to go from here. All scouted whole afternoon. Lake 1 
mile west. Old trail runs towards it. George thinks caribou 
trail, no cuttings found on it yet. I think portage. Looks 
like portage we have followed and runs in right direction. 

Wednesday, August 5th. — Portaged from camp on 
Montagnais Lake, 1 mile west to another lake. No signs of 
Indians here. Camped at west end of this. Saw two caribou. 
Dropped pack and grabbed rifle ; was waiting for them 
250 yards away when a cussed little long-legged bird 
scared them. At point near camp where lakes meet, I 
cast a fly, and half pound and pound fontanalis, as fast 



218 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

as I could pull them out. What a feed at 2 p.m. lunch. 
Climbing ridge, saw that lake empties by little strait into 
another small lake just alongside, at south. Stream flows 
from that south. Therefore we are on Hamilton River 
waters, George and I went scouting to bluffs we saw from 
trees on ridge. Both lost. George got back before dark. 
I spent night on hill, 2 miles southwest. No matches or 
grub. Scared a little. Heard big river, found it flows south- 
east. Must go into Hamilton, but it is a big one, several 
times as big as the Northwest at its biggest. Where does it 
come from.f* Can it be Michikamau.'^ 

Thursday y August 6th. — Slept some last night, lying 
on two dead spruce tops, too wet and cold to sleep very well. 
Mosquitoes awful. George went to my river. Wallace and 
I took canoe and went into lake north of here. Cuttings, 
winter. George found river to be big and deep. Straight, 
as though from Michikamau. Don't believe this little 
creek of a Northwest comes from there. Will portage to 
this river and try it. 

Friday, August ^th.^ — Portaged 2 miles to river on 
our south; good paddling save for a rapid now and then. 
So big we think. Low's map to the contrary, that it comes 
from Michikamau. Anyway it comes from that way and 
will carry us a piece toward the big lake. No cuttings. 
Big trout despite east wind. Caught about fifteen. Cold 
wind drove away flies. Fire between big rocks. Moon over 
bluff's beyond. Fine evening. Fine river. Fine world. Life 
worth living. 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 219 

Saturday, August 8th. — Nasty, cold, east wind. Went 
4% miles through it all in good river with six short por- 
tages first three-quarter mile, and stopped about 1 p.m. to 
make Sunday camp and get fish. Put out net, ate our 
dried fish and by hard labour got a few more for supper. 
Only a bit of bread a day now, no grease, save a little 
bacon. All hungry for flour and meat. 

Sunday, August 9th. — Raining this morning and most 
of the P.M. Cold, east wind. Caught about forty-five trout 
by hard effort, several % lb. each. George made paddle 
and scouted. Burned his knife. 

Monday, August 10th. — Rain and east wind. Caught 
one big fish before breakfast. Wallace ate it. George and 
I ate pea meal. On first portage found old summer cuttings 
and wigwam poles. Feel sure that this was the old Mon- 
tagnais route. Went 3 miles and crossed four portages. 
Then on strength of being on right road and needing fish, 
camped before noon. Mother's birthday. Ate some of her 
dried apples last night with sugar. 

Tuesday, August 11th. — East wind. Warmer a little. 
Just a little rain. No fish biting. Slept late. Climbed ridge 
and tree. See ridge of high half barren hills away ahead. 
Think this the ridge east of Michikamau. Hungry all 
the time. Down to 40 lbs. of flour, 8 lbs. tea, about 20 
lbs. pea meal, a bit of sugar, bacon, baking powder and 
dried apple, just a bit of rice. Saw mountains ahead from 
a blufi* just below our evening camp. River runs north ap- 



220 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

parentlj ; it must therefore be Low's Northwest River I 
think. Mountains look high and rugged, 10 to 25 miles 
away. Ought to get good view of country from there, and 
get caribou and bear. Moccasins all rotten and full of 
holes. Need caribou. Need bear for grease. All hungry all 
day. George weak, Wallace ravenous ; lean, gaunt and a 
bit weak mj^self. Fish braced us wonderfully. 

Wednesday, August 12th. — Best day of trip. Started 
late. Cloudy, damp. I took pack over half mile portage 
and stopped to fish. Fourteen trout. Three portages and 
then — glory ! Open water. Five miles and stopped for 
lunch, with good water before and behind for first time 
since Grand Lake. Old wigwam and broken-down canoe 
at lunch place. Ate trout and loaf of bread. Hungry. 
Started again, hoping for stream to fish in. Made 3 miles. 
Then a big bull caribou splashed into the water of a bayou 
200 yards ahead. Wallace in bow took shot, high and to 
the left. I raised sights to limit and held high. Did not 
think of sport, but grub, and was therefore cool. As first 
shot George said, " Good, you hit him." He started to 
sink, but walked up a bank very slowly. I shot two more 
times, Wallace once and missed. George and I landed and 
started towards spot. Found caribou down, tr^dng to rise. 
Shot him in breast, cut throat. George made stage for 
drying. Wallace and I dressed caribou. Wallace put up 
tent. I started meat from bones in good strips to dry. 
Then all sat down and roasted steaks on sticks, and drank 
coffee, and were supremely happy. We will get enough 
dried meat to give us a good stock. 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 221 

Thursday, August ISth. — Worked at getting caribou 
skin tanned in a.m. Ate steak for breakfast, liver for din- 
ner, ribs for supper. No bread, just meat. Wallace and I 
started in canoe to look for fish and explore a bit. Found 
rapid 2 miles above. Very short, good portage, old wig- 
wam, good water ahead. Too cold to fish. Cloudy day, 
but got blankets aired and dried. River seems to run to 
northeast of ridge of quite high mountains, 6 to 10 miles 
ahead. Very tired or lazy to-day. May be meat diet, may 
be relaxation from month of high tension. Think the lat- 
ter. Mended pants. One leg torn clear down the front. 
Patched with piece of flour sack. 

Friday, August 14!th. — George and Wallace left in 
canoe with tin cups, tea and some caribou ribs, to scout 
river above and climb hills. I put some ashes and water on 
caribou skin. Just starting to shed. Studied map and Low's 
book. Wish we could descend this river on way out and 
map it. 

Saturday, August 15th. — Cloudy again this morning. 
Sprinkle or two. Wallace and George not back. Wallace 
and George came at dusk; tired out and none too hopeful. 
Found stream coming from a little lake with two inlets. 
Followed one west to mountains; it turned to a brook, 
ended in mountains. Other went so much east they fear it 
ends in lakes there. Think maybe they lost the river. 
Hungry as bears. Stayed out to explore this east branch. 
The three days' inaction and their story of doubtful river, 
depressed me. If the way to Michikamau is still so doubt- 



222 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

ful, after more than four weeks of back-breaking work, 
when will we get there, and when to the caribou grounds, 
and when home? I'd like to be home to-night and see my 
girl and the people, and eat some bread and real sweet 
coffee or tea or chocolate. How hungry I am for bread and 
sweets ! 

Sunday, August 16th. — Wind has changed at last to 
north. Not much of it. Clear and bright in early morn- 
ing. Clouded at noon, so I am not sure my observation 
was just right, close to it though I think. 53° 46' 30'^ 
Have been coming nearly west, an angle to south and an- 
other to north. Last observation possible was two weeks 
ago to-day. Feel fine to-day. Good rest and good weather 
and grub are bully. Figure that east branch the boys 
saw must be Low's Northwest River, and must break 
through the mountains somewhere a little north. Any- 
way it can't run much east and must take us north and 
west through lake expansions close to the mountains. Then 
if it ends, it's up to us to portage over to the lake ex- 
pansions Low sees on his Northwest River flowing out 
of Michikamau. Scraped flesh from caribou skin. 

Monday, August Ylth. — .Temp, at 4.30 a.m. 29°. 
Temp, noon 59°. Ice on cups. First of season. Beauti- 
ful, clear day, north wind, slight. Flies bad in p.m. Went 
west of north 3 miles, following river to where it began to 
expand into lakes. Noon observation 53° 43' 19''. Yes- 
terday's observation wrong I think. In a.m. fished few 
minutes at foot of short rapids. About forty trout, one 
16 inches long, biggest yet. Caught most on fins. Ate all 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 223 

for noon lunch, stopping at sand-beach on shore of very 
pretty little lake expansion. Had coffee too. In p.m. we 
turned west into some long narrow lakes, that extend into 
mountains, and have a current coming out. George and 
Wallace think from a previous look, that here is a portage 
trail to Michikamau's southeast bay. George explored 
while I worked at skin. George returned. No good so far 
as he saw, to cross here, but he did not do the thing thor- 
oughly. However, I'll let it drop, for I believe the river 
goes east and north, and then west and breaks through 
mountains to Michikamau. Worried some. Time short and 
way not clear, but we'll get there if we have to take the 
canoe apart and walk across. May have to stay late on the 
George, and have to snowshoe to Northwest River and 
then across ; but if it comes to that we'll do it. This snow- 
shoe to Northwest River and then across to the St. Law- 
rence, by Kenamon and St. Augustine Rivers, appeals to 
me. Lots of old wigwams about, summer and winter. Stove 
was used in one. I think Indians hunted here. Caribou 
tracks on barren mountains. 

Tuesday, August ISth. — Temp. 28° at 4 a.m. Clear 
sky in morning. Much worried last night and this morn- 
ing, about way to Michikamau. Started early, ready to 
go at the job harder than ever. Lake expansions, rapids, 
no signs of Indians. Afraid this a bad stretch which Indians 
avoided. Stopped at 10 a.m. for tea. Caught fourteen big 
trout there, in few minutes. Then river opened into long 
narrow lakes, and the going was bully. It turned west, or 
we did (it came from the west) and went into the moun- 
tains, and we fairly shouted for joy. George saw caribou. 



224 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Turned out to be geese. Chased ahead them on bank. Shot 
old goose as she lay low in water, swimming and hiding. 
Broke old one's wing and took off leg. Then missed four 
shots. Gander took to woods. George took after young 
and killed one with pistol. Came and helped get wounded 
goose. Great chase. Trout, pounders, jumping like greedy 
hogs to fly. Took about fifty while boys were making two 
short portages in p.m. Bread, small loaf, coffee, sugar, 
goose, trout for supper. Big feed in celebration geese and 
good water. At end of to-day's course turned to right 
into wrong channel, into little narrow lake half mile long, 
prettiest I ever saw. Big barren bluff rises from water on 
north, barren mountains a few miles to west, ridge of green 
to west, sun setting in faces to contrast and darken, two 
loons laughing, two otters swimming in lake. One seemed 
afraid and dived; other more bold, looked at us. Hoped 
to kill it to settle question of species, but did not get near 
enough. Good water ahead. Hope we are on the road to 
Michikamau. 

Wednesday, August IWi. — Noon 53° 50'. Bright, 
clear in a.m. Southeast wind brought clouds. Began to 
rain as we went to bed. Spent whole day river hunting, 
paddling from arm to arm of the lakes. George and I 
climbed high barren ridge. Red berries and a few blue 
berries. Plock ptarmigan, rockers. I shot three with pistol, 
old one, two young, but could fly. Saw more mountains 
on all sides. Many lakes to east. Failure to find river very 
depressing to us all. Seems to end in this chain of lakes. 
Will retrace our way to last rapid to be sure, and faihng 
to find stream, will start west up a creek valley on a long 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 225 

portage to Michikamau. Boys ready for it. I fear it will 
make us late, but see no other way. Glad Wallace and 
George are game. A quitter in the crowd would be fierce. 

Thursday, August 9.0th. — Rain last night. Cloudy in 
A.M. Rain p.m. and night. Wind south. Stopped to mend 
moccasins and give caribou a bit more drying before we 
start to cross mountains. Looked ahead and saw two more 
lakes. May be a good deal of lake to help us. Mended 
moccasins with raw caribou skin. While George got lunch 
I took sixteen trout, fin for bait. In p.m. Wallace and I 
took canoe and went back over course to last rapid, ex- 
ploring to see that we had not missed river. Sure now we 
have not. So it's cross mountains or bust, Michikamau or 
BUST. Wallace and I came upon two old loons and two 
young. Old tried to call us from young. Latter dived like 
fish. Caught one. Let it go again. We caught eighty- 
one trout at last rapid in about an hour, mostly half- 
pounders ; fifteen about pounders, hung to smoke. Big feed 
for supper. Rest for to-morrow. Rained good deal. Sat 
under drying stage with a little fire, tarpaulin over us and 
had big supper — fried trout, trout roe, loaf of bread, 
coffee. Last of coffee. Hate to see it go. Little sugar left. 
A bit in morning and evening cups. 

Friday, August 9.1st. — Rain all day. Wind changed 
to north, colder. Portaged to little lake above camp. 
Found wigwams at each end of portage. Looks like old 
Montagnais trail. Then more lakes and short portages. 
Made 4 miles very easily, then, after pot of tea and big 
trout feed, portaged 1 mile west to another little lake, just 



226 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

over Height of Land. Our stream tumbles off the moun- 
tain, and does not come from this last-named lake at all. 
Little 4-foot ridge turns it. Went into camp very early, 
chilled through. 

Saturday, August 9.^nd. — Portaged across Height of 
Land. Delighted to find on end of lake to westward many 
Indian signs. Believe this enters southeast bay of Michi- 
kamau, or a lake connected with it. Rained hard by spells. 
West wind. Camped on island early in p.m. after a very 
short march, to repair canoe, and to wait for head wind to 
fall. Caribou meat roasted at noon. Two loaves of bread, 
dried apples and tea — no meat or fish — supper. 

Sunday y August ^Srd, — West wind. Rain and clear by 
spells. Drank last of chocolate — two pots — for break- 
fast. Dried blankets in a sunny spell, and about 10 a.m. 
started. Coming to point round which we expected to get 
view of lake ahead — " Like going into a room where there 
is a Christmas tree," said George. Narrow channel around 
point 2% miles from east end. Thence we saw a long 
stretch of lake running west. Believe it Michikamau's S.E. 
bay sure. Mighty glad. Ate boiled dried caribou, pea 
soup, tea. Dried caribou hurts our teeth badly. Went west 
2V2 niiles and climbed barren hill on north side of lake. 
Ate blue berries, bake-apple berries, and moss berries. Saw 
on north, water in big and little masses, also on N.W. 
many islands of drift, rocky and spruce clad. One long 
stretch of lake, like a river, runs east and west, about J2 
miles north. Wonder if it is Low's Northwest River. Went 
west on our lake 3 miles. Caught a fish like pike, with big 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 227 

square head, 3% lbs. Found our lake ends, stream falling 
in from another lake west. Came back 2 miles to outlet 
into waters north. Camped. All feel bully. On Michika- 
mau waters sure. 

Monday^ August 9.^tli, — Rain, north wind, cold. In 
camp all day. Bad head wind. George and I scouted. All 
restless at inactivity but George. He calm, philosophical, 
cheerful, and hopeful always — a wonderful man. 

Tuesday, August 25th. — Cold N.E. wind. Rain. Made 
start. Nasty portage into Northwest River (?). Wallace 
turned round and started to carry his pack back. Wind 
fair part of time. Part of time dangerously heavy. 
Landed on point running out from north shore. Wigwam 
poles. Have diarrhoea. All chilled. Not sure of way ahead, 
but not worried. Camped at 5 p.m. Nice camp in clump 
of balsam. Not craving bread so much. Idleness and a 
chance to think make us hungrier. Flies about gone. 
Proverb — On a wet da^^ build a big fire. 

Wednesday, August 26th. — Temp, at 5 a.m. 40°. 
Bright and clear save for one shower in p.m. Started 
happy. Shot goose with pistol after long chase. Goose 
would dive repeatedly. Shot several times at rather long 
range. Paddled 20 to 25 miles on big lake running east 
and west. No outlet west. Came back blue and discouraged. 
Passed our camp of last night to climb a mountain on 
N.E. side. Caught very pretty 2-lb. pike trolhng. Wal- 
lace and I got supper. George went to climb mountain, 
found river this side (west) of mountain, running into this 



228 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

lake from N.W. What is it? Low's Northwest River? 
Can't see what else. Glad again. Very hopeful. Sick and 
very weak. Diarrhoea. Pea meal and venison and goose 
liquor. Better. Bright northern lights. 

Thursday, August ^TttJi. — Bright and lightly clouded 
by spells. No rain. Northwest River panned out only a 
little stream. N.G. Guess we must portage. Desperate. 
Late in season and no way to Michikamau. One more try 
for inlet, and then a long nasty portage for the big lake. 
See little hope now of getting out before winter. Must 
live off country and take big chances. Camping near where 
we camped last night. Going up Northwest River and 
hunting outlets some more, took our time. Ran across 
geese this a.m. I went ashore and George and Wallace 
chased them close by. Shot leader with rifle. Then two 
young ones head close in shore. I killed one with pistol 
and two others started to flop away on top of water. 
Missed one with pistol, and killed other. While exploring 
a bay to N.W., we landed to climb ridge. George found 
three partridges. I shot one, wounded another, pistol. 
Camped to-night cheerful but desperate. All firm for 
progress to INlichikamau. All willing to try a return in 
winter. Discussed it to-night from all sides. Must get a 
good place for fish and caribou and then freeze up, make 
snowshoes and toboggans and moccasins and go. Late 
home and they will worry. Hungry for bread, pork and 
sugar. How I like to think at night of what I'll eat, when 
I get home and what a quiet, restful time I'll have. Plies 
bad by spells to-day. 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 229 

Friday, August ^8th. — Temp. 6 a.m. 56°. Back to 
northwest end of lake where bay runs north. Portaged to 
small shoal lakes and camped on north side, ready to start 
in A.M. Fixed moccasins in preparation for long portage. 
Made observation of sun and moon to-night, hoping to get 
longitude. All very tired, but feel better now. No bread to- 
day. No sugar. Don't miss latter much, but hungry for 
bread. Good weather. Shower or two. Writing by camp 
fire. 

Saturday, August ^9th.. — Temp. 6 a.m. 38°. Am 
writing a starter here, before beginning our march north. 
Wallace and George at breakfast now. I'm not. Sick of 
goose and don't want it. Ate my third of a loaf of bread 
lumpy without grease and soggy, but like Huyler's bon- 
bons to our hungry palates. Dreamed of being home last 
night, and hated to wake. Jumped up at first light, called 
boys and built fire, and put on kettles. We must be moving 
with more ginger. It is a nasty feeling to see the days slip- 
ping by and note the sun's lower declination, and still not 
know our way. Outlet hunting is hell on nerves, temper and 
equanimity. You paddle miles and miles, into bay after 
bay, bay after bay, with maybe no result till you are hope- 
less. Ugh ! This is a great relief to be about to start north 
through the woods — fairly high ground to start with — 
on a hunt for Michikamau. Hope we will not have 
swamps. Lakes will probably stop us and make us bring 
up the canoe. Good evening and we are happy, despite 
fact that grub is short and we don't know our way and all 
that. 



230 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Sunday, August SOtJi. — Beautiful, clear Sunday, but 
no Sunday rest for us. I jumped up early, called George, 
and built fire. Started at 5.54< a.m., portaging from little 
lake to little lake, north and west, to where we know Mich- 
ikamau must lie, somewhere. For two days we have heard 
geese flying. Thought our goose chases over, but to-day 
five walked down bank into water ahead of canoe on a small 
lake. Wounded two at one shot with rifle. Two old ones 
flew. Left wounded to chase third young one. Shot and 
killed it with pistol. Could not find wounded. Made 3 miles 
before dinner. Good. In p.m. about II4 miles more. 
Then reached range of semi-barren ridges, running east 
and west, and seeming to reach to barren mountains north. 
George and I climbed first ridge from a little lake, with 
blue green, ocean-coloured water. Heard stream ahead. 
Little river running through ponds. George went back for 
outfit and Wallace. These are trying days. We are not 
quite up to normal strength. I think too much routine of 
diet, lack grease, sugar and grain foods. The feeling of 
not knowing where we are or how to get out adds to our 
weakness, still we are all cheerful and hopeful and without 
fear. Glad all of us to be here. How we will appreciate 
home and grub when we get out. I crawl into blankets 
while the boys smoke their evening pipe. Then I think of 
M. and our home at Congers, and plan how she and I will 
go to Canada or Michigan or somewhere, for a two week's 
vacation when I get home. I wonder when that will be. 

Monday, August S^st. — Ice on cups this morning. 
Thermometer out of order. Lat. 53° 57^ I hate to see 
August end with us so far from the George River, or so 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 231 



perplexed as to the road. We are in camp now, on the 
stream we reached last night. I am writing and figuring in 
the early morning. The whole character of our country 
changes here. Ridges and hills extending into mountains 
on the north. Must know what lies there before we pro- 
ceed. George will scout. Wallace and I will dry fish. 
While George was scouting, I lay in tent awhile, too weak 
to fish even. Fish not biting though. Oh, but I'll be happy 
to see Michikamau ! George returned late. Climbed moun- 
tains to north. Reports fair line of travel to northwest, 
long lakes and tolerable portages. Will go that way, I 
think. Wallace got a few trout. George killed two part- 
ridges with my pistol. 

Tuesday^ September 1st. — West wind. Fair, warm. 
Very weak to-day. Our stuff so light now we can take all 
but canoe at one trip over portage. Have just crossed por- 
tage from lake by yesterday's camp, to other lakelet N.W. 
Boys gone back for canoe. I sit here and write. Very rough 
portaging here, all rocks and knolls. Little clear lakes be- 
tween. Have to put canoe into water every 40 rods or so. 
Shot a plover with pistol to cook with George's partridges. 
Later. Made about 4^^ miles. Caught about thirty-five 
trout at edge of lake where stream empties. 

Wednesday, September ^nd. — West wind. Fixed moc- 
casins in A.M. and started portage west. Camped in swamp. 

Thursday, September Srd. — Rain all day by spells. 
Wind west. Got up in rain, hating to leave blankets. At 
breakfast, bread and tea and venison. I took no tea. Am 



2S2 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

trying now just venison and fish broth. May agree with me 
better than tea. Don't miss sugar much any more, though 
I do plan httle sweet feeds when I am out. Very nasty 
work in rain. Am well again and strong. Worked well. 
Portaged and paddled west ^^/'o miles. Wallace turned 
round again and carried pack back to starting point. 
George and I carried canoe. Sky cleared in evening. Saw 
all day big spruce trees. Country here not burned I think. 

Friday, September ^tli. — Rain. West wind. Portaged 
west ll^ miles, with two little lakes to help. Rain all time. 
Stopped to let George scout best way to big lake ahead. 
Thinks it is 3 miles away. Hope it leads to Michikamau. 
George and Wallace mending moccasins. George reports 
big water about 3 miles ahead. Hope Low's Northwest 
River lake expansions. Cannot be far now from Michika- 
mau. Spent much time over map in p.m. Think we must 
start back 1st October to the St. Lawrence, if we can get 
guides. Otherwise to Northwest River and then snowshoe 
out. 

Saturday, September 5th. — Rain by spells. West wind, 
cold. Awoke in rain. Last three nights have been as clear 
as crystal, beautiful moon. Then rain in the morning. Very 
disappointing. We waited a little while about getting up, 
hoping rain would stop. Slackened, and w^e started. Poor 
day's work. Portaged about 2% miles west. Came out on 
barrens and ate lot of blue berries. Saw big waters to west, 
big blue hill, blue sky-line where we hope Michikamau lies 
hidden. Pint berries raw for supper. Otherwise, venison 
and broth, thickened with three spoonfuls of flour, each 
meal. 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 233 

Sunday, September 6th. — Temp. 5 a.m. 38°. First 
snow came, mixed with nasty cold rain. Nasty, raw, west 
wind. Worked in it most of dsij, portaging S% miles 
N.W. Tried carrying all stuff at one trip. Grub low. Big 
water ahead. Believe this big water will lead to Michika- 
mau. Almost a desperate hope. If it does not and we 
find no water route, I scarcely see how we can reach the 
caribou grounds in time to see the crossing and meet the 
Nascaupees. Without that I am doubtful of the success 
of this trip, and failure makes me shudder. Besides it is 
liable to make us all very hungry. We must push on harder, 
that's all. And get there somehow. 

Monday, September 1th. — Temp, at 5 a.m. 48°. N.W. 
wind, slight. Rain by showers. On portage crossed worst 
swamp of trip. In to my knees and fell down with heavy 
pack on my back. Floundered out in nasty shape. Found 
small stream flowing N.W. toward our big water. I caught 
about thirty trout, not big, while Wallace and George 
brought up outfit and canoe by stream. Very slow work. 
All very hungry in p.m. Stopped for pot of soup. Found 
it getting dark and stopped to camp. Last meal of venison 
in bag. Must get fish. Ate half our trout to-night, boiled 
and thickened with flour. Drank last bit of cocoa. No 
sugar. Boys not scared. No talk of quitting. Don't just 
see where we are coming out. 

Tuesday, September Sth. — Cold raw N.W. wind, no 
rain, partly clear. Observation noon, 54° V ^V\ Aired 
and dried blankets. Followed stream down to very shoal 
bay of our big water, which like the will-o'-wisp has led us 



234 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

on. Only ten trout, mostly small. Weather too raw. Very 
depressing to have it so when meat is out. On to caribou 
grounds is the watchword. Gave up trouting and started 
west on our big lake. Stopped to climb mountain. Ate 
some cranberries. Saw a few old caribou tracks. Big moun- 
tain to west of us. Islands or something between, many low, 
flat, wooded. 

Wednesday/, September 9th. — BIG DAY. Warm, clear. 
Temp. 5 a.m. 29°. Ice in cups. Slept without sweater or 
socks last night. Cold but slept well. Beautiful cold crisp 
morning. Up at first dawn. Inspiring, this good weather. 
George boiled a little bacon and rice together, and a little 
flour made sort of porridge for breakfast. Very, very 
good. No fish or game ahead. Went to big hill mentioned 
yesterday. George and I walked about 4 miles and back 
getting to its top through spruce burnings. Awful walk- 
ing. Very tired when about to top. Wondering about next 
meal and thinness of soup mostly to blame, I guess. Then 
things began to get good. First we ran across a flock of 
ten ptarmigan. They were in the burned-over semi-barren 
of the hill-top. They seem to lack entirely the instinct to 
preserve themselves by flying. Only ran ahead, squatting 
in apparent terror every few feet. We followed with our 
pistols. I killed eight and George one, my last was the old 
bird, which for a time kept away from us, running harder 
than the rest, trying to hide among the Arctic shrubs. 
George says they are always tame on a calm day. Their 
wings are white, but the rest is summer's garb. " Not 
rockers, but the real kind," says George. Then we went 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 235 

on across the mountain top and looked west. There was 
MICHIKAMAU! And that's what made it a BIG DAY. 
A series of lake expansions runs east from it. We can see 
them among flat drift islands, cedar covered, and a ridge 
south, and a hill and the high lands north, and apparently 
a little river coming from the north, and pour- 

ing into the lake expansions some miles east of Michikamau. 
There is one main channel running east and south, in this 
expansion. It is north of the waters we are now in, and we 
can see no connection. However, there looks as if there 
might be one about 5 miles east of our big hill. Behind 
some barren ridges, about 50' high. So we are making for 
them to see what we can find. If no connection, we must 
portage, but we will not mind a little portage now, with 
Michikamau waters just over it. Westward from our hill 
are dozens of little lakes, and a good deal of low burned 
land. S.E. more lakes. Must be an easy portage from the 
lakes on which we were muddled two weeks ago. That's 
where we missed it, in not finding that portage. 

Thursday, September 10th. — Wind west, cloudy. 
Temp. 5 a.m. 46°. Rain in evening. Cut legs from old 
drawers and pulled them over pants as leggings. W^ent 
east looking for opening in N.W. River. Think we saw it 
in ridge to northeast, came S.W. Believe that we saw also 
opening into Michikamau's Bay which runs out of lake on 
S.E. side. Wind delayed, and we only got to foot of moun- 
tain from which we expect to see it. Camped. Rain com- 
menced. While scouting I shot a large spruce partridge 
with pistol. 



236 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Friday/, September 11th. — Raining in morning. Wind 
southwest. Temp. 49°. Ate last meal of mother's sweet 
dried apples. We are on the verge of success apparently, 
in sight of Michikamau from which it is not far to the 
caribou grounds and the Nascaupees. Yet we are sick 
at heart at this long delay and the season's lateness and 
our barefoot condition. Yet no one hints at turning back. 
We could do so, and catch fish and eat our meal, for we 
know the way to within easy walking distance of Grand 
Lake, but the boys are game. If we only had a fish net we 
would be O. K. My plan is to get a few fish if possible, 
push on at once to Michikamau somehow. Get to the George 
River, and find the Nascaupees. Then if the caribou mi- 
gration is not over, we will kill some of the animals, dry 
them up and get as far back as possible before freezing 
up and leaving the canoe. Then, unless we can get some 
one to show us to the St. Lawrence, we will probably go 
to Northwest River Post, get dogs and provisions, and 
snowshoe S.W. to Natishquan or some such point. If we 
don't get to the caribou grounds in time — well, we'll have 
to get some fish ahead, or use our pea meal in a dash for the 
George River H.B.C. Post. After breakfast George and 
I went in rain to climb mountain. No water into S.W. 
bay of our lake as we hoped. Trolling back, I caught one 
small namaycush. Then we all started to hunt for a rapid 
we heard on the south side of this lake. Caught one 2 1/2 
lb. namaycush. Found rapid. Good sized stream falling 
in from south. Big hopes, but too shoal and rapid, no 
pools. Only one mess of trout. Very much disappointed. 
While Wallace and I fish, George gone to troll. When he 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 2S7 

gets back, we will go to look for inlet into Low's " North- 
w^est River." Not finding that we will start on a portage 
for it in the morning. Later by camp fire. Weather has 
cleared. All bright and starry. Caught a 7-lb. namaycush 
and so we eat to-night. 

Saturday/, September l^th. — Temp. 38°. High N.W. 
wind. Clouds and clear by spells. Dashes of snow. We 
camped on a little island not far from the N.E. main land 
where we hope inlet is, just at dusk. Ate big namaycush 
and were ready to push on early this morning. Two meals 
of trout ahead. Awoke this a.m. to find awful gale stirring 
the lake to fury. No leaving. Wallace and I stayed in tent 
mending. I made pair of moccasins out of a pair of seal 
mittens and some old sacking. Patched a pair of socks with 
duffel. Not comfortable, but will do. George went to canoe 
to get fish. " That's too bad," said he. " What.? " I asked. 
"Somebody's taken the trout." "Who.?" "Don't know. 
Otter or carcajou, maybe." And sure enough they were 
gone — our day's grub. We all laughed — there was noth- 
ing else to do. So we had some thin soup, made with three 
thin slices of bacon in a big pot of water and just a bit 
of flour and rice stirred in. One felt rather hungrier after 
eating it, but then we did not suffer or get weak. It is 
very disappointing to be delayed like this ; but we can only 
make the most of it and wait. No game or fish on this 
island and no hopes of getting off till it calms. So we are 
cheerful, and make the most of a good rest and a chance 
to mend ; and we need both, though perhaps we need prog- 
ress more. 



258 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Sunday, September ISth. — Temp. 39° 5 a.m. High 
N.W. wind in a.m. Clear, rain, sleet by spells. Heavy wind 
continued this a.m. Some more rice and bacon soup for 
breakfast. Read Philemon aloud and told story of it. Also 
1st and 91st Psalm. Found blue berries, and all ate. At 
about one o'clock, wind dropped somewhat. We started to 
hunt outlet into N.W. River, supposed to be N.E. of island. 
N.G. Shot at goose — missed. Hooked big namaycush — 
lost it. Caught another 6 lbs. Ate it for lunch about 4 p.m. 
Picked gallon of cranberries. Ate a pot stewed with a little 
flour for supper. Enough for two meals left. Not very 
satisfactory, but lots better than nothing. Sat long by 
camp fire. 

Monday, September 14ith. — Temp. 40° 5 a.m. High 
N.W. wind, clear and showers by spells. Very much dis- 
appointed to find heavy gale blowing. Could not leave 
shore. Had breakfast of very thin soup. Then all slept 
till nearly noon. I dreamed again of being home. Hungry 
all day. George and I have decided that we must not start 
this way home before freezing up time. Might get caught 
again by bad winds. Better freeze on the George River 
with the Indians, save grub if we get any, and then snow- 
shoe clear out. Later by camp fire. Hard to keep off de- 
pression to-night. Wind continues and all hungry. 

Tuesday, September 15th. — Temp. 31° 5 a.m. West 
wind, spits of sleet, and fair. Wind continued hard all day. 
Could not leave shore. I lay awake all last night thinking 
over situation. George is worried and talks of Indians who 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 239 

starve. Tries to be cheerful but finds it hard. Here we are, 
wind bound, long way from Michikamau, no hopes of wind 
abating. The caribou migration is due to begin, yet we 
can't start and are at least two weeks from their grounds, 
with no grub and no prospect of good weather. Our grub 
is 18 lbs. pea meal, to be held for emergency, and S lbs. of 
flour, 1 pint rice, 3 lbs. bacon. To go on is certain failure 
to reach the caribou killing, and probable starvation. If 
we turn back we must stop and get grub, then cross our 
long portage, then hunt more grub, and finally freeze up 
preparatory to a sled dash for Northwest River. That will 
make us late for boat, but we can snowshoe to the St. Law- 
rence. All this, with what we have done so far, will make 
a bully story. I don't see anything better to do. I asked 
Wallace. He opposed and then said it was best. I said to 
George, " Would you rather go on or turn back ? " " I 
came to go with you, and I want to do what you do." When 
I said we will turn back he was very greatly pleased. Now 
my job is to get the party back to Northwest River, getting 
grub as we go. We will take the back track to some good 
fishing grounds, catch fish, try to kill a caribou, and wait 
for freeze. We can't take the canoe down the Nascaupee. 
Hence the need of freezing. Stayed in camp all day. Could 
not launch canoe. No place to fish or hunt. Feel better 
now that the decision is made. Ate very thin rice and bacon 
soup and drank tea. Long chat with Wallace. Feeling good 
in spite of short grub. George is telling again how he will 
visit his sister at Flying Post and what he will eat. We are 
talking of plans for our home-going, and are happy despite 
impending hunger. 



240 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Wednesday, September 16tJi. — Temp. 29° 6 a.m. Wind 
N.W. Shifting to N.E. Little rain. Moved to rapid on 
south shore where there is some trout fishing, and hard 
place to be wind bound. Must fish a few days and get grub 
ahead for our long portage back to Namaycush Lake. Ate 
last bit of bacon at noon, cut in three pieces and boiled 
with rice and a little flour. Boys trolled in p.m. I made 
camp and fished brook. Too cold. They lost two good 
namaycush. I took two 10-inch trout. Boiled these into a 
mush and put last handful of rice and a little flour into pot 
with them. Good soup. Made us feel stronger. 

Thursday, September Tlth. — Temp. 33° 6 a.m. Rained 
all last night and all this p.m. For breakfast a whisky 
jack, stewed with flour and about two spoonfuls of erbs- 
wurst. Good. Wallace and I each had half a bird. If we 
get enough fish ahead to take us across this portage, our 
pea meal and what fish we can get on river will see us to the 
post. Hoping weather will improve so we can make a good 
haul. Disheartening in extreme to be working all the time 
in rain and wind and cold. I made a map this a.m. of our 
long portage — about 30 miles. Will require about seven 
days. Wallace and I stretched tarpaulin by fire and sat 
long beneath it chatting. Wallace is a great comfort these 
evenings. There has been no friction this trip whatever. 
I think I'll get a bully story out of it despite our failure 
to find the Nascaupees. I'll get more in freezing up, more 
in Northwest River people and more in the winter journey 
to God's country. 

Friday, September 18th.— Temp. 38° 6 a.m. S.E. wind, 
turning to N.W. gale about noon. Raw and snow by spells. 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 241 

Caught three namaycush in am., then wind bound by fierce 
N.W. gale at camp. Wallace caught ^1/2 lbs. trout. I 
caught 1 lb. Namaycush heads and guts and my trout for 
supper. Boiled with last of flour. Hungry and a bit weak, 
but all cheerful. Sat late by roaring camp fire. Very de- 
pressing this, getting wind bound so often just when we are 
trying to get fish ahead for our long portage towards home. 
Have thought a good deal about home. It seems to me 
I'll never be willing to leave it again. I don't believe I'll 
want any more trips too hard for M. to share. Her com- 
panionship and our home life are better than a great trip. 
So it seems to me. 

Saturday^ September 19^/i. — Rain and snow last night, 
temp. 32°. Gale from northwest all day. Wind bound in 
camp all day. Lay in tent almost all the time. Spits of 
snow. No breakfast. Bit of fish and its liquor for lunch. 
Same with a dash of pea meal at night. Oh! to be away 
from this lake and its gales and to be started home ! Last 
night we quit rolling in blankets and made bed to keep 
warm. All three crawled in. Warmer than other way. 
Quite comfortable all night. Plan a great deal for the 
future. I am planning to give more time to home. Less 
fretting and more home life. I've let my ambitions worry 
me. More time for my meals when I get home and more 
for my wife and our friends. I want to give one or two 
little dinners in the woods when we get back and while 
George is there. A turkey roast like a goose. Stuff*ed. 
Potatoes, bannocks, made while the turkey is roasting, one 
of George's puddings, coffee and maple cream. 



242 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Sunday, September 9.0th. — Temp. 6 a.m. 29°. Morn- 
ing bright and clear. Light N.W. wind. Showers in p.m. 
Squally. To-night we are starting for Northwest River 
Post. When we reach the big river we can I think nearly 
live on the fish we get there. From there too, there are more 
signs of caribou. About four days more and we ought to 
reach a remnant of flour we threw away. It was wet and 
lumpy, but we will welcome it now. It, if it is usable, will 
see us to the head of Grand Lake, where Skipper Blake has 
a cache, I think, in a winter hunting shanty. It promises 
to be a hungry trip, but it is a man's game. Now that we 
are starting home I am content with the trip and the ma- 
terial. We've done all we could. Our minds turn to home 
even more and we are anxious to be back. So hungry to see 
all the old friends. 

Tuesday, September 92nd. — Temp. 38°. N.W. wind. 
Rain in morning and by spells all day. All feel stronger to- 
day than yesterday. Tried to stalk goose in bad swamp. 
Missed at long range. Waded above knees in mud and water 
to get shot. Portaged all day mostly through low or 
swampy ground. Happy to be going home. Camped to- 
night on second old camping-ground. George and Wallace 
brought up outfit while I made camp and got wood. 

Wednesday, September 9Srd. — Rain by spells. W. wind. 
Clear in evening and cold. Portaged all day. Crossed 
barren ridge. Had big feed of moss-berries and cranberries. 
Wallace had apparent tea sickness and vomited. Erbswurst 
same as yesterday. Feel quite weak to-night. Had carried 




CARRYIXG THE CANOE UP THE HILL OX THE PORTAGE 



LAUNCHING 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 243 

canoe a good deal. A good deal depressed till camp fire. 
Then good again. Bright, crisp night. Dried clothing and 
got warm. Talked long by fire of home. Blankets very 
damp. Hard time keeping warm at night. 

Thursday, September Mth. — Temp. 28°. N.E. wind. 
Snowing in morning. Quite cold last night, but clear and 
crisp till toward morning when it snowed. Blankets very 
damp, but by drying clothes at fire and getting good and 
warm, we slept warm and well. Dreamed M. and I were at 
Missanabie. How I do wish I could see her again at home. 
Thinking too much maybe, about home now. Makes too 
big contrast. Snow covered ground by noon. Disagree- 
able morning, but a little crisp wintriness helped it some. 
Plodded along on a pea soup breakfast, wondering what 
the outcome will be — a little. Nasty weather makes one 
wonder — and thinking of M. and home. Then came a 
happy event. George had said last night he could kill a 
wild goose this a.m. if I would let him take rifle. Did so, 
half convinced by his confidence, and knowing he was a 
big goose shooter down on " The Bay." He had started 
ahead. Had seen flock light in pond ahead. Wallace and I 
heard four shots. Came to where George had left pack. He 
was coming with no goose. " You can kick me," said he, 
" but I got a goose." We took canoe to his pond. He had 
killed one goose, which was drifting ashore, and wounded 
another, which sat on shore and let George end it with a 
pistol. Never was goose more gladly received I'll venture. 
I promised George two cook-books and a dinner as a re- 
ward. 



244 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Friday, September 25#/i.— Temp, 28°. Wind N.E. 
Snow squalls. Half goose breakfast. Pea soup, thin, for 
dinner. Half goose, supper. Goose is bully. When done 
eating we burn the bones and chew them. Nasty day. 
Portaged to old camp on small lake and stopped. All day 
I have been thinking about childhood things and the coun- 
try. I want to get into touch with it again. I want to go to 
Canada, if possible, for Christmas. I want to go some- 
where in sugar making. So homesick for my sweetheart. 
Fairly strong despite short grub. 

Saturday, September ^6th. — Temp. 28°. Wind N.E. 
Rain in early morning, cold wind, warming in late p.m. 
Clear at mid-day. Dried blankets. Travelled over our old 
course to our " long-lake-that-looks-like-a-river." Shot a 
large duck's head off with rifle. Had hopes of a few fish at 
place where we found them spawning on our westward way, 
but was fearful of the cold. Left George cooking and went 
to try with Wallace's rod, not over hopeful, as water was 
very high and weather cold. Delighted to catch twenty 
very fair ones while lunch was cooking. In p.m. took nine- 
ty-five more. Estimated weight of catch 70 pounds. We 
will stay here to-morrow and dry fish for journey. This is 
a wonderful relief. It means enough fish to put us through 
to our big lake, or nearly so. We had no hopes of such a 
catch, and would have been delighted with just a meal or 
two. Then it means, I hope, that we will find the trout 
biting at other spawning places, and catch enough to live 
on in spite of the cold weather. We are happier than for 
weeks before for we believe this almost guarantees our safe 
return home. Rain drove us from our camp fire just after 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 245 

George had declared, " Now we'll talk about French toast, 
and what we'll eat when we get to New York." So we all 
crawled into blankets and did plan and plan good dinners. 

Sunday, September 27 th. — Warm day, partly clear, 
wind S.W. Ate last of goose for breakfast. Bully. 

Monday, September 2Sth. — Snow and clear by spells. 
Stayed in camp to rest and feed up. Were all weak as cats 
when we relaxed from the grub strain. We kept smoke go- 
ing under stage and lay in tent most of day. Boiled fish 
for breakfast, roast smoked fish for other meals. Like them 
rather better the latter way. 

Tuesday, September 29th. — Temp. 24°. Snow by 
squalls all day. Wind W. Caught twelve good trout while 
boys were breaking camp. Diarrhoea, which attacked me 
yesterday, came back when I started to carry the canoe. 
Had to drop it and became very weak. Boys went on with 
it about 11/4 miles and came back. We camped on long 
lake. I huddled by fire and wrote when it was not snow- 
ing. We can catch up to our schedule if I am able to travel 
to-morrow for it is only an easy march, covered in less than 
a day before. All talking about home, all happy to be go- 
ing there. 

Wednesday, September SOth, — Boys carried canoe 
nearly to Pike Lake, while I made camp and went back and 
forth three times to bring up packs. Then a happy camp 
nearer home. To-night we planned, in case we have a long 
wait in St. John's to get rooms for light housekeeping and 



246 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

not go to hotel. Then we can cook what we want and need 
and Hve high — beef bones for caribou, cereals with real 
cream, rich muscle-making stews of rice, beef, etc., toma- 
toes, etc. 

Thursday, October \st. — Temp. 40°. Crossed to Pike 
Lake this a.m. Lunch on west side, last of fish. Nothing 
now left but pea meal. Crossed lake, no trail on east side, 
hoping to get trout where I took a mess in outlet coming 
up. Not a nibble. Too cold or something. Camped in lee 
of trees. Boys had feed of blue berries while I fished. Ate 
half stick of erbswurst. Good camp fire, but I rather blue 
and no one talkative. So hungry for home — and fish. 

Friday, October ^nd. — Cold west wind. Temp. 30°. 
Cold — snowed a bit in the evening. Took packs early in 
day and hurried across to tamarack pole fishing place. 
Only two trout before noon. Ate them with pea meal and 
boys went back for the canoe. Only two days, and easy 
ones, to our big lake. Then only two days to the river with 
its good fishing. That makes us feel good. It means a 
good piece nearer home. 

Saturday, October Srd. — Bright crisp morning. Temp. 
21°. Snow squalls. Left tamarack pole place and portaged 
south over old route, crossing lakes, etc., to our camp of 
29th August, on little pond. Wet feet and cold, but not a 
bad day. I lugged all the packs and boys canoe. Beautiful 
moon and clear night. All sat late by camp fire talking 
and thinking of home. Pleased to have another fair march 
back of us — happy. 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 247 

Sunday, October 4<th. — Temp. 10°. Bright clear cold 
A.M. Everything frozen in morning. Pond frozen over. 
Two trout left. One for breakfast, boiled with erbswurst. 
Portaged to lake about three-quarter mile away. Crossed 
it. Some ice to annoy. George borrowed Wallace's pistol 
saying he saw a partridge. He killed four. Lord's with 
us. We need 'em bad. I'm weak and nervous. Must have 
vacation. Wallace notices it. Have not taken bath for two 
weeks, ashamed of my ribs which stick out like skeletons. 

Monday, October 5th.— Tem^. 30°. Wind S.E. Snow 
on the ground. Up late. Waited Wallace to mend moc- 
casins. Late start. Crossed bad swamp to big lake, wading 
icy water. Dried feet and drank cup soup. Stopped island 
in P.M. to get berries. All talk much of home now. At 
camp fire George told me of his plans to get married and 
his love story. 

Tuesday, October 6th. — Temp. 48°. Rain and snow 
in A.M. George shot partridge before breakfast. Rained 
most of night. Started expecting to portage to lake first 
west of Height of Land. Got into rough sea, exciting time. 
Found river of considerable size emptying into that lake. 
Ran into it and prepared to finish in the morning. George 
and I ran on rock shooting rapid. Beautiful night — cold. 
Feel all cold. 

Wednesday, October ^th. — Thermometer out of order. 
Heavy frost. Ran down river into lake, west of barren 
mountain, climbed to scout on day after entering lake W. 
of Height of Land. Stopped and fed well on our moss ber- 



248 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

ries and cranberries. Took some along. Started Height of 
Land portage. Happy to be back. Very thin pea soup 
breakfast. Some with berries for lunch. Weak. 

Thursday^ October 8th. — Thermometer N.G. Very 
frosty. Dreamed last night we were going out of bush, 
very weak and hungry. Came to our old Michigan Farm 
and found mother. Wonder where mother is now. Do want 
a vacation at home or in Canada. May be won't need it 
after ride on steamer. Finished Height of Land portage 
and came on to place where we dried caribou (second 
time), at head of Ptarmigan Lake. I caught four fish, 
small trout, while Wallace was going back for rifle, which 
he had left at far end of small lake. Wallace came back 
with partridge. This delayed us and we did not reach good 
fishing rapid. Hoped to get trout there. Did catch a few 
before — failed to-night. Bright crisp day too. George 
very blue in consequence. Wallace and I not worried. Pea 
meal down to less than two pounds. No other food save tea. 
Thinking much of home and M., and our plans and old 
friends. I want to keep better in touch with relatives every- 
where and the country. How I wish for that vacation in 
Michigan or Canada ! or a good quiet time at Congers, and 
I am aching to write home sketches and stories that have 
come to my mind. We talk much of future plans, and the 
camp fire continues to be a glorious meeting place. 

Friday, October 9th. — Reached good fishing hole at 
rapid where we caught so many trout on way up. Got about 
fifty in P.M. Glorious, crisp fall day. Dried blankets. Fif- 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 249 

teen trout lunch ; twelve supper ; then six roast before bed- 
time. Disappointing. Hoped for some to dry. Only one 
day's slim fish ahead — one and a half pounds pea meal. 
No hopes of getting ahead fish to freeze up. Must get out 
to civilisation. Pretty weak all of us. 

Saturday y October 10th, — ■ From rapid about half way 
to Camp Caribou. Boys shot rapids while I fished. Beau- 
tiful day till about noon. Then cloudy and cold west wind. 
Cheerful camp fire as always. About twenty trout, nine 
boiled for supper. Same for lunch. Much talk of grub 
and restaurants, and our home going, much of George's 
room in New York, of good days in Congers. I want to go 
to Michigan and Canada and to Wurtsboro'. Oh, to see my 
sweetheart and be home again! 

Sunday, October 11th. — Beautiful, clear day, cold. Off 
day for grub. George shot three times at ducks and I fished 
at rapids. No fish — no ducks. Nine small trout breakfast, 
eight lunch. No supper ahead save what George hoped to 
find at Camp Caribou. Arrived there tired and weak about 
an hour before sunset. George gathered bones and two 
hoofs. Pounded part of them up. Maggots on hoofs. 
We did not mind. Boiled two kettlefuls of hoofs and bones. 
Made a good greasy broth. We had three cupfuls 
each and sat about gnawing bones. Got a good deal of 
gristle from the bones, and some tough hide and gristly 
stuff from hoofs. I enjoyed it and felt like a square meal. 
Ate long, as it is a slow tough job. Saved the bones to 
boil over. 



250 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Monday, October 12th. — Made about 9 miles to-day. 
Several bad rapids. Shot them. George and I nearly came 
to grief in one. My fault. Beautiful day. Fished a little, 
but no fish bit. Hope to leave stream to-morrow, and that 
makes us happy. For breakfast bones of caribou boiled to 
make greasy broth. Quite supply of grease in it. Hoofs 
too boiled. Some gristle to these that was good. Strong, 
rancid taste, but we relished it. Roasted hard part of hoofs 
in fire, ate them. Half rubber, half leather, but heap better 
than nothing. For lunch the same with skin from velvet 
horns added. Latter boiled up and was very good. At night 
some bones boiled to make broth, skin from head added. 
Part of mine I could eat boiled. Part from nose very thick 
and had to be roasted first. Good. Sat by camp fire long 
time. Very sleepy. Talked of home and friends and grub 
and plans. 

Tuesday, October ISth. — Lightened our packs a bit, 
throwing away more or less useless stuff at old shack, where 
we had a rainy night. Pot of tea at Rainy Sunday Camp. 
All very hungry and weak. Camped below Rainy Sunday 
Camp. Tried wenastica, not bad. Not much taste to it. 
Thinking all time of home and M. and parents and Congers 
and Wurtsboro' and childhood and country. 

Wednesday, October 14^/?. — Caribou bones, boiled into 
broth for breakfast. Then George shot a duck. Came back. 
" Lord surely guided that bullet," said he reverently. He 
had killed a wonderfully fat duck. Oh ! but it was good and 
greasy. Made bully lunch boiled, and good pot of broth. 
Left river where we entered it. Left canoe, sextant box. 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 251 

artificial horizon and my fishing-rod. Packs still too heavy 
for our strength. Little progress. Reached old camp where 
we left lakes for big river. Hoped fish. No bites. Cold 
east wind. Big fire. All cheerful. Just bone broth and a bit 
of wenastica for supper. Must lighten packs to limit. 
Count on bit of flour 22 miles from here. Here George 
found two old goose heads and some bones we left. Saved 
them for breakfast. All gnawed some charred bones. 
George found three tiny slices of bacon in old lard can we 
left — one each. How good they were. The scrapings of 
lard he melted for the broth pot. We have 11-6 lbs. pea 
meal left. No other grub but tea. We think this will take 
us to our bit of flour, if it is still left, and Blake has a 
cache, we think, at the head of Grand Lake about 24 miles 
beyond that. Hope to get out O. K. Count on berries to 
help us. Had some moss berries to-day. 

Thursday, October 15th. — Dreamed last night came to 
New York, found M. and had my first meal with her. How 
I hated to find it a dream. Lightened packs a good deal. 
Left Wallace's rifle, cartridges, rod, my cleaning rod, my 
sextant and 15 films and other things, cached in bushes at 
left side of little stream between two lakes. Wallace hated 
to leave his rifle, I hated to leave other stuff. Spent most of 
forenoon getting ready. Ate for breakfast bit of skin from 
old caribou head, boiled with bone broth. At lunch on 
Montagnais Lake, same, but skin was from old caribou hide, 
which we had carried to mend moccasins. Were almost to 
our second camp where we ate first goose, when I got shaky 
and busted and had to stop. Wallace came back and got 
my pack and I walked to camp unloaded. In p.m. George 



252 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

shot three partridges wliich jumped up before us in a 
swamp. Killed them with my pistol. Made us very happy. 
Ate one for supper, OH ! how good. In spite of my weak- 
ness I was happy to-night. I remember a similar happiness 
once after I went to New York. I got caught in rain, had 
no car fare, got soaked, spent last 10 cents for rolls and 
crullers, then crawled into bed to get dry and eat, not 
knowing where the next meal would come from. Talk of 
home. George not thinking now of eating of recent years, 
but just the things his mother used to make for him as a 
child. Same way with Wallace and me, save that I think 
of what M. and I have eaten that she made. 

Sunday, October 18th. — Alone in camp — junction of 
Nascaupee and some other stream — estimated (overesti- 
mated I hope) distance above head of Grand Lake, 33 
miles. For two days past we have travelled down our old 
trail with light packs. We left a lot of flour wet — about 
11 miles below here, 12 miles (approximately) below that 
about a pound of milk powder, 4 miles below that about 4 
pounds of lard. We counted on all these to help us out in 
our eff^ort to reach the head of Grand Lake where we hoped 
to find Skipper Tom Blake's trapping camp and cache. 
On Thursday as stated, I busted. Friday and Saturday it 
was the same. I saw it was probably useless for me to try to 
go farther with the boys, so we counselled last night, and 
decided they should take merely half a blanket each, socks, 
etc., some tea, tea pail, cups, and the pistols, and go on. 
They will try to reach the flour to-morrow. Then Wallace 
will bring a little and come back to me. George will go 
on to the milk and lard and to Skipper Blake if he can, 





1. ^iM 


^1 ^^^^j^S^^H^^IB^^^ 



DIARY OF LEONIDAS HUBBARD, JR. 253 

and send or lead help to us. I want to say here that they 
are two of the very best, bravest, and grandest men I ever 
knew, and if I die it will not be because they did not put 
forth their best efforts. Our past two days have been try- 
ing ones. I have not written my diary because so very weak. 
Day before yesterday we caught sight of a caribou, but it 
was on our lee, and, winding us, got away before a shot 
could be fired. 

Yesterday at an old camp, we found the end we had cut 
from a flour bag. It had a bit of flour sticking to it. We 
boiled it with our old caribou bones and it thickened the 
broth a little. We also found a can of mustard we had 
thrown away. I sat and held it in my hand a long time, 
thinking how it came from Congers and our home, and what 
a happy home it was. Then I took a bite of it and it was 
very good. We mixed some in our bone broth and it seemed 
to stimulate us. We had a bit of caribou skin in the same 
pot. It swelled thick and was very good. Last night I fell 
asleep while the boys were reading to me. This morning I 
was very, very sleepy. After the boys left — they left me 
tea, the caribou bones, and another end of flour sack found 
here, a rawhide caribou moccasin, and some yeast cakes 
— I drank a cup of strong tea and some bone broth. I also 
ate some of the really delicious rawhide, boiled with the 
bones, and it made me stronger — strong to write this. 
The boys have only tea and one half pound pea meal (erbs- 
wurst). Our parting was most affecting. I did not feel so 
bad. George said, " The Lord help us, Hubbard. With His 
help I'll save you if I can get out." Then he cried. So did 
Wallace. Wallace stooped and kissed my cheek with his 
poor, sunken, bearded lips — several times — and I kissed 



254 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

his. George did the same, and I kissed his cheek. Then they 
went away. God bless and help them. 

I am not so greatly in doubt as to the outcome. I believe 
they will reach the flour and be strengthened, that Wallace 
will reach me, that George will find Blake's cache and camp 
and send help. So I believe we will all get out. 

My tent is pitched in open tent style in front of a big 
rock. The rock reflects the fire, but now it is going out 
because of the rain. I think I shall let it go and close the 
tent, till the rain is over, thus keeping out wind and saving 
wood. To-night or to-morrow perhaps the weather will im- 
prove so I can build a fire, eat the rest of my moccasins and 
have some bone broth. Then I can boil my belt and oil- 
tanned moccasins and a pair of cowhide mittens. They 
ought to help some. I am not suffering. The acute pangs 
of hunger have given way to indifference. I am sleepy. I 
think death from starvation is not so bad. But let no one 
suppose that I expect it. I am prepared, that is all. I 
think the boys will be able with the Lord's help to save me. 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 

LAST DAYS TOGETHER 

Friday, October 9th. — We got up good and early. 
Only tea we had, expecting when we got to our rapid to 
have something to eat. After going about 2 miles we 
came to our old camp where we camped on our way up 
where we had a goose that Mr. Hubbard had killed. I also 
had killed one. We went ashore to see if we could find some 
of the old bones. We gathered all we could find and ate 
them all. 

Mr. Hubbard said, " I often have seen dogs eating bones 
and thought it was pretty hard lines for them, but it must 
be only fun for them." 

Before coming to our rapid, the rapid we had always 
talked about where we thought we would get lots of fish, I 
told Mr. Hubbard and Wallace my dream I had that night. 
It did not seem like a dream but more like some one talking 
to me. When travelling this summer when we began to be 
out of grub, if we dreamt of having a good meal at some 
restaurant we often told it to each other next morning. 
This morning my dream was : — 

A man came to me and told me, " You will get to the 
rapid to-day and I cannot spare you more than two or 
three meals of fish, and do not waste much time there. Go 
right on and don't leave the river, but follow the river on. 

255 



256 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

It is only the way you can save your lives. Follow the river 
down." 

We got to the rapid about noon, all feeling very, very 
weak. I started a fire. By the time I got some wood and 
had my fire started they had already enough fish for a 
pretty fair meal and, of course, you can imagine how glad 
we were and did not delay much time but got our fish for 
lunch. It was nice to have something to eat again. We 
were pretty sure of getting lots more. After lunch Mr. 
Hubbard and Wallace fished. It was good signs of caribou 
round there. I took the rifle and tracked up the caribou, 
but I saw nothing. It was late when I got back. The boys 
were still fishing. They had caught about sixty more little 
trout. We felt as if we could eat all those fish in one meal, 
but seeing they were so scarce we had to try and save some 
for the next day. 

Saturday, October 10th. — We fished all before noon and 
did not get any at all. So we had to start off from there, 
seeing it was no use in trying to fish any more. We came to 
some more rapids in the afternoon. Wallace and I ran some 
with empty canoe, and then went back for our dunnage, 
while Mr. Hubbard would fish. It got very cold in the 
afternoon. Mr. Hubbard caught about twenty little trout. 
Looking forward we hoped next day to get to our old camp, 
Camp Caribou, where we killed our caribou August 12th. 
We thought that may be we will find some of the old bones 
so as to make some broth, thinking it would help us some. 
We camped just near the river where we could get lots of 
wood, and have a good camp fire so we could sit beside the 
camp fire and have a good talk about home. 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 257 

Mr. Hubbard tells me he will get a room for me in New 
York. He again that night asked me to stay with him a 
couple of months in Congers before I go home to Mis- 
sanabie, and also to pay him a visit real often, and also that 
he would never go out doing any travelling without me. 

He said, " I am sure Mrs. Hubbard will not be able to 
do enough for you, especially when she knows how good you 
have been to me. I w^ould like to have you come with me to 
Michigan. I am sure my sister would like to have you tell 
them the story about our trip." 

Sunday, October 11th. — Had four small trout for 
lunch, only little larger than a sardine. Late in the even- 
ing we came to our old camp, where we had the caribou. 
Most of the bones were carried off by some animals. 
Picked up all we could find and made some broth, and very, 
very strong broth too, which I suppose no one could hardly 
believe that any human being could eat. The bones were 
fuU of maggots, and when it boiled for some time the mag- 
gots would boil out. It just looked like if it had been little 
rice in it. We drunk it up maggots and all. It was pretty 
high, but found it good. Nothing was too bad for us to 
eat. 

Monday, October l^th. — Fine day. In the morning we 
had bone broth again and tea. We started off carrying all 
the bones we could find in our pail, also taking the caribou 
horns with us. At noon we had broth and piece of the hide 
we got off from the caribou horns. In the evening we came 
to a rapid. Hubbard and I nearly swamped the canoe, and 
part of the rapid was too rough to run. It was only just a 



258 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

short lift over, about 100 feet. The three of us took the 
canoe, and before getting over we dropped it. We were 
getting so weak that it took the three of us to carry the 
canoe, and yet we couldn't even that distance. We looked 
at each other, but none complained of his weakness. We 
found we could not go any farther without something to 
eat. We ate one of Mr. Hubbard's old moccasins, made out 
of caribou skin, that he made himself. We boiled it in the 
frying pan, till it got kind of soft, and we shared in three 
parts. Each had his share and found it good, and also 
drank up the water where it was boiled in. At night we had 
some tea, and it freshened us up some. 

Tuesday, October l^th. — Wind raw and cold. We came 
to a little fall we had to carry over, quite short, about 40 
feet portage, but our canoe we hadn't the strength to carry. 
We had to drag it over the rocks, 

I shot a whisky jack, and we had it along with our 
bone broth and tea. Not knowing what our next meal 
would be, or whether we will ever have the pleasure of en- 
joying another meal, it looked very much like starva- 
tion. 

My back was aching quite a bit that day. Touch of 
lumbago. It made things worse for me. I thought it would 
be impossible for me to try and go any farther. So I told 
Mr. Hubbard that if I did not feel any better in the morn- 
ing, they could go on and try to make their way out and 
leave me behind, because I did not want to delay them in 
the least. For all, I was sure they would never make their 
way out ; but I thought they might try anyway. Mr. Hub- 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 259 

bard was very, very sorry about it ; but he said he hoped I'd 
be better in the morning. 

Wednesday, October 14^/i. — The boys were up before 
me and had a fire on. It was some time before I could get 
up; but I was feehng better than I did the night before. 
Before noon I shot a duck with the rifle. We were very 
happy boys. 

At noon we came to the place v>'here we had planned 
some time ago to leave the canoe and cross over to the 
Nascaupee again. We had our nice duck for lunch, and en- 
joyed it very much. Mr. Hubbard then asked me if I could 
find the flour we had thrown away some time in July, along 
the Nascaupee. 

" Yes," I said, " if no animal has carried it away. It is 
over 20 miles from here." 

" Then," he said, " I think we better leave the canoe and 
march over to the Nascaupee." 

And the reason why I did not try and persuade him more 
than I did for us not to leave the Big River was, we thought 
perhaps there would be lots of places where we could not 
run our canoe in some wild rapids, and would have to carry 
our canoe. I knew the last two days how we were when try- 
ing to carry our canoe, and we also thought that if we were 
travelling through the bush we would surely come across 
some partridges, and help us to the flour, and the flour 
would help us to the lard, about three pounds, and some 
milk and cofl'ee 3 miles from Grand Lake. Also as we only 
know the river above there, of course, we did not know 
where the river ran to. The boys thought it ran out to 



260 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Goose Bay, as Low's map showed only the one river running 
into Grand Lake. Also at Rigolette, trying to find out all 
we could, and at Northwest River too, nobody ever said 
about any river but the Nascaupee. Still I said it might 
run out into Grand Lake. 

So the canoe, one axe, the sextant box, and the rest of 
the caribou horns we left ; but the bones we carried with us 
in our pail, which we boiled over and over to make broth. 
The bones, since we had them, we would scorch in the fire 
at night, and chew away at them. Was pretty hard chew- 
ing. 

I told the boys when we decided to leave the canoe, that we 
had better leave everything we have, so we would make bet- 
ter time ; but we didn't want to waste any time after our nice 
duck, but go right on while we have yet some strength from 
it. So we didn't wait to overhaul our stuff. We traveled 2 
miles from the Big River that afternoon. We found our 
packs too heavy to carry, and decided to lighten up in the 
morning. 

That evening Mr. Hubbard said, " Mrs. Hubbard this 
evening will be now at dinner, and after her meal will fin- 
ish with lot more on the table. Oh, if she could only hand me 
a piece of bread ! " 

Thursday morning, October 15th. — We threw away 
lots of dunnage, also some films and one rifle. Mr. Hub- 
bard was very sorry to leave his flask. He had often spoken 
of it being a present from Mrs. Hubbard. 

I shot three partridges after noon with the pistol. We 
were so glad. Mr. Hubbard was more than glad. He came 
and shook hands with me. 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 261 

We were trying to reach our old camping place on our 
way up, Goose Camp we called it, but we were all feeling 
so very weak especially Mr. Hubbard. At last he could 
not go any farther. I told him it was about 40 yards to 
where our old camp was. So we made him leave his load 
and he followed us. I, with the greatest hurry, started a 
fire and made him a cup of tea. We as usual sat up near our 
fire for some time, trying to encourage each other about 
what good things we would have, after we got to New 
York. 

Friday, October IQtth, — For breakfast we ate one part- 
ridge leaving the other for lunch. Threw more things 
away, one blanket and more films, and at noon more tilings 
left behind. I had a good suit of underwear with me, sav- 
ing it till cold weather, but that day at noon I left every- 
thing belonging to me. I was too weak to take off* the bad 
and put on the good. Also left some films and — came to 
the Nascaupee. 

That day just before noon, we came to a place where 
Mr. Hubbard had caught some fish when we were going up, 
and we thought that perhaps we could get some fish there 
again, but the little stream was nearly dry. We sat down 
and had a rest. 

A little lake about 400 yards from us on our way. This 
little stream ran into the lake. Just near the lake I saw 
a caribou coming along following this little river to where 
we were. 

I told the boys, " There's a caribou coming along." 

We all fell flat on the ground ; but he was on the lee side 
of us and soon found out we were there. He stood — behind 



262 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

some little trees and had his head up looking towards where 
we were, and all of a sudden he was gone, and we didn't 
have the chance to fire. I got up. A swamp I knew of. I 
made for that swamp thinking I would cut across him. I 
tried to run, yet I was so very, very weak. Oh! how hard 
I tried to run. But when I got out there he was across on 
the other side. I was away for some time, yet when I came 
to the boys, they were still lain the same way, and their 
faces to the ground, and did not move till I spoke to them. 
We were more than sorry about the caribou, and each one 
said what he would do, and how much we could eat if we 
killed that caribou, and that we would stay right there for 
a few days till we got a little stronger. 

Though I was feeling so very weak myself, when we 
would have nothing else but tea, as we often just had tea, 
nothing else, when I would hand the boys a cup of tea 
each, I would ask them to pass it back, as I would pretend 
I'd forgotten to put any sugar in. They would pretend 
that they didn't care for sugar, and refuse to have some. 
Then I would ask them if they would have some bread or 
some pie. 

Mr. Hubbard would say, "PIE! What is pie? What 
do they use it for? Do they eat it? " 

This I did often to encourage them and myself, that 
we might forget the danger ahead ; but it was something 
impossible to forget, as the hunger and weakness pained 
us, and I thought we would not be able to go many more 
da3\s if we don't succeed in killing anything. 

That evening we hadn't the strength of chopping our 
wood. Just gathered the small, dry pieces we found near 
our camp. We also put up our camp in an easy way we 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 263 

thought. Three little poles were required to keep up our 
tent. They were quite handy ; but it took me some time 
before I could cut them down. 

That day at noon, when I left my dunnage bag with 
lots of films in, and hung the bag on a short stump, Mr. 
Hubbard told me, " If we get out safe to Northwest River, 
I think you or I might stay there this winter, and try and 
get out some of the things Ave are leaving, especially the 
films. If we could get out in time of the last trip of the 
Virginia Lake, Wallace and you could go home. Or if you 
would stay, Wallace and I could go home." 

I told him I would be very much in a hurry to go home, 
and wouldn't wish to stay out here for the winter. " But 
if you wish, and rather have me stay, I will stay for the 
winter and try and get the things out for you." 

He was so glad about it and said, " It will be better, of 
course, if 3'ou would stay, as you could make a better 
guess for the things than I would." 

Saturday, October 11th, — We followed the river, and 
without anything to eat all day. Only tea we had. Some- 
times we would be completely done out. Then we would 
make some tea and help us some and start on again. This 
we kept on doing all day. 

That evening we came to the junction of the river where 
it branches off. About half an hour before we came to the 
branch we had a fire, as Mr. Hubbard was feeling cold and 
chilly all day. Just at the forks we found a few red 
berries, and to see if I could find some more I just went 
about 20 yards from them. When I found none and re- 
turned to see them, Mr. Hubbard was lying down on the 



264 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

damp rocks and moss. He looked so pitiful and Wallace 
sitting near him. I told him not to lie on the damp moss, 
and asked him if I'd better make him a cup of tea. 

" Yes," he said, " I think if I had a cup of hot tea I'd 
feel better and then go on again." 

He could hardly speak. I knew he was very weak. I 
asked him if he could get to where we camped before going 
up, where it was nice and dry, about 20 yards. He said 
he would try. I took his and my pack and he followed us. 
He could just barely walk. We made him a place near the 
fire, and gave him a cup of hot tea, and made him a cup 
of pea meal. 

We put the camp up the best way we could and gathered 
enough wood to last all night. 

The flour we were coming for was yet 10 miles away, and 
the advance in covering so many miles each day, became 
less and less each day. So after we had some tea and bone 
broth, I thought, seeing it was no use trying to keep it to 
ourselves any longer, the danger before us, I would tell 
them what was in my mind (not about restaurants this 
time) before it was too late. Seeing that death was just 
near, which anyone else, if in our place, would expect noth- 
ing else but death, they were quite satisfied and each did the 
same. 

Mr. Hubbard talked about Mrs. Hubbard, and his father 
and mother, and his brother and sister, but most about 
Mrs. Hubbard. Wallace talked of his sisters and I did the 
same, especially my youngest brother, as my father and 
mother died some years ago and he was left under my 
care. It was quite a different talk beside the other nights' 
talk, as we never let a night pass without being talking 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 265 

about good restaurants, and what we would do when we 
got home. 

About 10 miles from there the flour w^as we were look- 
ing forward to. So I told Mr. Hubbard to see what he 
would think. If he couldn't really have the strength of go- 
ing any farther, that Wallace and I would try and go and 
find the flour, and if we found it one would return and 
bring some of the flour to him, and the other would try 
and make his way out to Northwest River, as it is nearly 
80 miles to Northwest River post, and may be I might come 
across some trappers and be able to help him. 

He at first said it was no use of trying, as he knew how 
weak we were and that we would only be scattered 
abroad. 

" Should a relief party be sent out to look for us, they 
will find us here in our camp ; but if you wish to try all 
right. You are more than trying to save me. I never came 
across a man so brave as you are. Still I may feel better in 
the morning, and I will not carry anything. Now I see that 
you were right when we left the canoe. You wanted to 
leave everything and go out light. 

" If you get to the flour, you must take most of the 
flour and Wallace will bring the rest. As we will be stay- 
ing in one place we will not require as much as you will, 
because if you fail on the way, it will mean sure death to us 
too. And if you happen to come on some trappers, just 
send them with grub, and don't come up yourself as you 
will be too weak. Or if you get to Northwest River, Mr. 
M'Kenzie will find men to send, and you will stay there. If 
I should starve and you get out, ]\Ir. INI'Kenzie will help you 
in all you need, and will keep you there this winter. By 



266 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR . 

the first boat you will go to New York, and my diary don't 
give to anyone but to Mrs. Hubbard. Tell her how things 
happened, and that I don't suffer now as I did at first, only 
so very, very weak, and I think starvation is an easy death 
to die. 

" I wish you could only see my father and mother, or 
my sister, so as to tell them about our trip. I wish I could 
tell them how good you were to me. But you must go to 
Mrs. Hubbard. 

" I am sorry, boys. It is my work the reason why you 
are out here. If I did not come out here you would have 
been at your home and having all that you need and would 
not meet death so soon." 

I told him not to be troubled by that. " If we didn't 
want to come we would have stayed at home. So don't 
put the blame on yourself." 

He also told Wallace if he got out to write the story 
for Mrs. Hubbard. 

Mr. Hubbard was very sleepy. So we did not sit up 
so long as we have done before. Mr. Wallace read three 
chapters to us. Mr. Hubbard chose thirteenth chapter 
First Corinthians, and I the seventeenth chapter St. John's 
Gospel, and Mr. Wallace fourteenth chapter St. John. Mr. 
Hubbard fell asleep when Mr. Wallace was nearly through 
reading the second chapter, that is, the seventeenth chap- 
ter. Mr. Hubbard slept good all night, and hardly ever 
moved till morning, when I wakened him and gave him a 
cup of hot tea and some bone broth. I also slept good all 
night and didn't hardly wake up till just before daylight. 
Mr. Wallace kept on a fire all night and wrote a farewell 
letter to his sisters. 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 267 

Sunday morning, October 18th, I got up and boiled 
those bones again, putting in just a httle of the pea meal 
in the broth, and also tea we had for breakfast. We had 
yet a half pound of the pea meal that we had carried for 
some time. 

We were to start early, and seeing Mr. Hubbard still 
weaker than he was last night, and was not able to go 
any farther, it was late when we started. We were so sorry 
to part, and almost discouraged to try and go any farther, 
but we thought we would try our best any way to help 
him. We were only going to take a cup each and a little 
tea pail. No blanket. Found too weak to carry anything, 
but Mr. Hubbard made us take a part of a blanket each. 
We only had two pair blankets. My blanket I had left 
behind a few days ago. 

So Mr. Hubbard told Mr. Wallace, " If you don't want 
to tear your blankets, you can tear my blankets in half, 
and each have a piece. It will be only one and half pound 
each to carry. Then I can use your blankets while you're 
away." 

Then we tore Mr. Hubbard's blankets, and Wallace and 
I took each a piece. Also he made us take the rest of the 
pea meal and little tea. We left him little tea and the bones 
and piece of flour bag we found, with little mouldy lumps 
of flour sticking to the bag, and the neighbour of the 
other moccasin we had eaten. 

Mr. Hubbard said, " After you go I will do some writ- 
ing and will write a letter to Mrs. Hubbard." 

Mr. Hubbard took his pistol off from his belt and gave 
me to take along. He also handed me his knife and told 
me to leave the crooked knife I had to him. I didn't want to 



268 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

take his pistol. I was thinking about a pistol too. I thought 
when Wallace and I parted I could ask him for his pistol ; 
but Mr. Hubbard told me, " You must take the pistol. The 
rifle will be here, and I can use the rifle if I have anything 
to shoot. You must take the pistol." 

So I took the pistol ; but the knife I did not take. 

Just before starting Mr. Wallace says that he is going 
to read a chapter before starting. Mr. Hubbard asked him 
to read the thirteenth chapter First Corinthians, and so 
he did. 

It was time to start. 

Mr. Wallace went to Mr. Hubbard and said, " Good-bye, 
I'll try and come back soon." 

Then I went to him and tried to be as brave as Wal- 
lace. 

When I took his hand he said, " God bless you, George," 
and held my hand for some time. 

I said, " The Lord help us, Hubbard. With His help I 
save you if I can get out." Then I cried like a child. 

Hubbard said, " If it was your father, George, you 
couldn't try harder to save." 

Wallace came back to LIubbard again, and cried like 
a child and kissed him ; and again I went to him and kissed 
him and he kissed me, and said again, " The Lord help you, 
George." 

He was then so weak that he could hardly speak. 

We came away. 

TRYING TO GET HEI.P 

When we left Mr. LIubbard an cast and raw wind was 
blowing, and soon rain began, and heavy rain all way. 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 269 

and were soaked to the skin, and made poor time. We 
followed the river as it ran out into Grand Lake. The least 
thing we tripped on we would fall, and it would be some 
time before we could get up. Or we went too near a tree, 
that a branch would catch on us, would pull us down. At 
dark we stopped for the night. The trees were very small, 
and we couldn't get any shelter at all, and hard to get wood 
with no axe. We pulled together some half rotten lain 
trees. Our fire wouldn't burn hardly, and couldn't dry our 
things, and had to sit up all night with wet clothes on, near 
our fire, or rather near our smoke, as the wood being too 
rotten that it wouldn't burn. About two o'clock the wind 
turned westward, the rain ceased, but it began to snow very 
hard. The night was long and my mind on Hubbard all 
the time could not forget him. 

In the morning, Monday, Oct. 19th, the snow nearly up 
to our knees. We started early. Our eyes were quite dim 
with the smoke and everything looked blue. It troubled us 
all day. Before noon I tracked up a partridge. Oh, how I 
wished to get him ! I came to the place where he had flown 
away and hunted for him quite a while. At last he flew 
off. I was just near him and yet did not see him, about 4 
feet over my head; but I saw where he perched. I didn't 
want to go too near him for fear he might fly away before 
I could shoot him. I was so particular. I rested my pistol 
on a tree to make a sure shot, and took a good aim, but 
only scraped him, and he nearly fell too, but after all got 
off. I cannot tell how sorry I was ; and about noon we had 
to cross this river because the flour was on the opposite 
side. It was quite a rapid and I knew farther down that we 
could not get across, as I remembered from this rapid to 



^70 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

where the flour is, it was deep. So we went into the cold, 
icj water up to our waists. We got across and made a fire, 
and had a cup of tea. It was yet a long way from the 
flour. We started ofl* as soon as we could. It cleared up in 
the afternoon, and only drifting and freezing very hard, 
was getting colder and colder towards evening. Mr. Wal- 
lace I knew was near his finish ; but I would not say or ask 
him about it. I thought I would scare him, and he would 
scare me too if he told me he could not go any farther. I 
was getting so very, very weak myself. 

The sun was getting low and I could yet walk lots 
faster than Wallace, and had to stand and wait for him 
very often, though I could hardly walk myself. I thought 
this was my last day that I could walk. If I don't come to 
the flour this evening I fear I will not be able to walk in the 
morning ; and if I get to where the flour is, and the mice or 
some animal has carried it off it will surely mean death. 
And besides I wanted to know very, very much if the flour 
was there. 

Just near dusk, Mr. Wallace was so much behind I 
thought I would tell him to follow my trail and he could 
come along behind, and I would try and get to the flour 
before dark. I stayed and waited till he came near. 

He asked me, " How far yet to the flour? " 

" About 2 miles," I said. 

" Well I think you had better go along and not wait for 
me any more. I will try and follow your trail. You go 
lots faster than I do. Go on while it is yet light, and see 
if you can find the flour; because if you cannot get there 
to-night may be you will not be able to go any farther 
should we live to see morning." 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 271 

I said, " Yes, that is just what I was going to tell you, 
the reason why I waited here for you." 

I started off. I went about 40 yards. Came across a 
partridge. I got my pistol and fired and killed him. Oh, 
how glad I was ! Mr. Wallace came to me. He was more 
than glad, and just ate part of him raw, which freshened 
us up a great deal. 

Then he said, " You can go on again and don't de- 
lay on me." 

I came on some caribou trail (it was then getting dark) 
and quite fresh, which run in all directions. I stood and 
thought, " When Wallace comes here he will not know 
my trail from the caribou trail; and if he cannot come to 
me to-night, if he follow the caribou trail it might lead him 
out of the way altogether; and if it snows again to-night 
I may not be able to find him in the morning." 

So I stayed till he came and told him why I waited for 
him. He was glad and said sure he would not know my 
trail from the caribou, which would perhaps lead him out 
of the way. So we sat down and ate some more of the part- 
ridge raw. 

Mr. Wallace says, " I just fancy that I never ate some- 
thing so good in my life." 

We could have camped right there where I killed the 
partridge, as we would have something for our supper ; but 
what I wanted to find out too was — Is the flour there I 
wonder. If we did not get there it would be in my mind 
all the time, " I wonder if the flour is there." It got dark 
and we still travelled. Wallace would often ask me, " How 
far is it to the flour .^^ " " How far is it from here to the 
flour?" 



272 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

At last I knew we were coming to it. We had not a mark, 
or never put it at some particular place; but we have just 
thrown it away. Anyway we thought we would never come 
past there again. It was late in the night when we came 
to the flour. I was not very sure of it myself. I put down 
my little load. 

Wallace said, " Is this the place .^ " 

I said, " Yes." 

So I went to where I thought we had left the flour. 
I dug down into the snow and just came on it. It was, 
of course, in one solid lump and black with mould. We 
got our knife and broke it ofl* in bits and ate quite a bit. 
We were just about played out when we came to the flour. 
If I hadn't killed the partridge we would never have got to 
the flour. 

We gathered some wood and made a fire. No trees at 
all so as to break the wind. All barren and the wind sharp, 
and clear night. We gathered enough wood for the night, 
and had the rest of the partridge, and also some flour soup 
in our little tea pail, and only wishing Mr. Hubbard was 
with us to enjoy the meal too. We thought and talked 
about Mr. Hubbard all the time, although at the same 
time having poor hopes of him. Mr. Wallace nearly blind 
and suff*ering with his eyes. 

I sat up all night and kept on a fire. I was very uneasy 
about Wallace and afraid he would not be able to go back 
to Mr. Hubbard with the flour ; but in the morning he was 
better and we did some patching on our old moccasins. 
We had some flour soup. Last night I did not notice in the 
dark the colour of our soup, till this morning when we 
had our breakfast about daylight. It was just black with 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 273 

the mouldy flour ; but we found it very good. Nothing was 
too bad for us to eat. We were feehng good and fresh in 
the morning and expecting to make good time in travel- 
ling. I took my share of the flour, about two pounds, and 
gave Mr. Wallace about six or seven pounds, stuck fast on 
the bag. He told me to take more, but I would not take 
any more. I said, " I will trust in getting some game," as 
I would get to the wood country soon. 

Before we parted I read the Sixty-seventh Psalm — 

" God be merciful unto us and bless us, and cause his 
face to shine upon us. 

" That thy way may be known upon the earth, thy 
saving health among all nations. 

" Let the people praise thee, O God ; let all the people 
praise thee. 

" O let the nations be glad and sing for joy; for thou 
shalt judge the people righteously, and govern the na- 
tions upon earth. 

" Let the people praise thee, O God ; let all the people 
praise thee. 

" Then shall the earth yield her increase : and God even 
our God shall bless us. 

" God shall bless us : and all the ends of the earth shall 
fear him." 

Then I read a Thanksgiving Prayer: 

" Almighty God, Father of all Mercies, we Thine un- 
worthy servants do give Thee most humble and hearty 
thanks for all Thy goodness and loving-kindness to us and 
to all men. We bless Thee for our creation and preserva- 
tion and all the blessings of this life; but above all for 



274 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Thine inestimable love in the redemption of the world by 
our Lord Jesus Christ ; for the means of grace and for the 
hope of glory. And we beseech Thee give us that due sense 
of all Thy mercies, that our hearts may be unfeignedly 
thankful and that we shew forth Thy praise not only with 
our lips, but in our lives, by giving up ourselves to Thy 
service and by walking before Thee in holiness and right- 
eousness all our days, through Jesus Christ our Lord. . To 
Whom with Thee and the Holy Ghost be all honour and 
glory world without end. Amen." 

Then I told him what to do, for him not to leave the 
river, but to follow the river. I was afraid he might some 
time leave the river and wouldn't be able to find the river 
again, and lose his way. And if he gets to Hubbard and 
Hubbard yet alive, " if he gets little stronger by this flour, 
should he wish to come on, do the same, follow the river 
near, all the time; because if I happen to get down safe, 
and if I am too weak to come up myself when I send up 
help I shall tell them which side of the river to follow and 
they will surely meet you." 

We found sorry to part, not knowing if we would meet 
again; but we must try and help Hubbard and do all we 
can for him. Wallace starts off on our back trail and I 
started toward Grand Lake. We said, " Good-bye, and 
' God be with you till we meet again,' " to each other. We 
parted on a barren hill and could see each other for some 
time. We would just walk a few yards and sing out to 
each other, " Good-bye." This we kept on till out of sight 
and some distance apart. 

It snowed very hard all day, and couldn't hardly see 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 275 

any distance. In the afternoon I killed a porcupine. How 
I wished I could give some to the boys. 

Wednesday, 2l5^, had snowed heavy all night, and made 
heavy travelling without snowshoes, and the snow above 
my knees. To-day I saw a caribou and got a shot at him 
with my pistol. In the evening I killed another porcupine. 
I thought, " I shall be able to get out to Grand Lake now 
if the snow don't get too deep for me." 

Thursday, ^2nd, Snowing very hard again and cold. 
I made a fire at noon and tried to patch my shoe-packs 
but I couldn't spare time. I walked with only my socks on 
in the afternoon and made poor time, as the country very 
rough and the snow very deep. I tried to make a straight 
road to make it short to Grand Lake. During the day 
though feeling very tired and would like to have a rest, if 
I stopped even for five minutes, lots of things would come 
into my mind, and would have to start on again. At night 
it isn't so bad, because I try to make myself believe — 
" because it is night therefore I cannot travel." 

Friday, ^Srd, more snow again. In the afternoon got 
mild, and being so much snow on the trees, it began to 
drop. It was worse than any rain and the bush so thick 
to go through, and at last it began to rain. I was soaked 
to the skin, and the snow very deep. My hands were always 
so cold without mits, and travelling in such a rough coun- 
try, and falling down often into the snow and rocks, and 
cutting my hands on the rocks. I at last cut part off the 
sleeves off my undershirt and with a string tied one end, 



274 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Thine inestimable love in the redemption of the world by 
our Lord Jesus Christ ; for the means of grace and for the 
hope of glory. And we beseech Thee give us that due sense 
of all Thy mercies, that our hearts may be unfeignedly 
thankful and that we shew forth Thy praise not only with 
our lips, but in our lives, by giving up ourselves to Thy 
service and by walking before Thee in holiness and right- 
eousness all our days, through Jesus Christ our Lord. . To 
Whom with Thee and the Holy Ghost be all honour and 
glory world without end. Amen." 

Then I told him what to do, for him not to leave the 
river, but to follow the river. I was afraid he might some 
time leave the river and wouldn't be able to find the river 
again, and lose his w^ay. And if he gets to Hubbard and 
Hubbard yet alive, " if he gets little stronger by this flour, 
should he wish to come on, do the same, follow the river 
near, all the time; because if I happen to get down safe, 
and if I am too weak to come up myself when I send up 
help I shall tell them which side of the river to follow and 
they will surely meet you." 

We found sorry to part, not knowing if we w^ould meet 
again; but we must try and help Hubbard and do all we 
can for him. Wallace starts off* on our back trail and I 
started toward Grand Lake. We said, " Good-bye, and 
' God be with you till we meet again,' " to each other. We 
parted on a barren hill and could see each other for some 
time. We would just walk a few yards and sing out to 
each other, " Good-bye." This we kept on till out of sight 
and some distance apart. 

It snowed very hard all day, and couldn't hardly see 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 275 

any distance. In the afternoon I killed a porcupine. How 
I wished I could give some to the boys. 

Wednesday, 2l5f, had snowed heavy all night, and made 
heavy travelling without snowshoes, and the snow above 
my knees. To-day I saw a caribou and got a shot at him 
with my pistol. In the evening I killed another porcupine. 
I thought, " I shall be able to get out to Grand Lake now 
if the snow don't get too deep for me." 

Thursday, ^^nd. Snowing very hard again and cold. 
I made a fire at noon and tried to patch my shoe-packs 
but I couldn't spare time. I walked with only my socks on 
in the afternoon and made poor time, as the country very 
rough and the snow very deep. I tried to make a straight 
road to make it short to Grand Lake. During the day 
though feeling very tired and would like to have a rest, if 
I stopped even for five minutes, lots of things would come 
into my mind, and would have to start on again. At night 
it isn't so bad, because I try to make myself believe — 
" because it is night therefore I cannot travel." 

Friday, ^Srd, more snow again. In the afternoon got 
mild, and being so much snow on the trees, it began to 
drop. It was worse than any rain and the bush so thick 
to go through, and at last it began to rain. I was soaked 
to the skin, and the snow very deep. My hands were always 
so cold without mits, and travelling in such a rough coun- 
try, and falling down often into the snow and rocks, and 
cutting my hands on the rocks. I at last cut part ofF the 
sleeves off my undershirt and with a string tied one end, 



276 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

and I slipped them on my hands for mits. Several times 
that day I had the notion of giving up, as I could not get 
on at all in the deep snow. I thought it was impossible 
to get through. Then again I would try and make my way 
out. I came to the place where we had left the coffee and 
milk. I found the coffee. The lid was off and the can 
was full of ice. I took the ice out and underneath of the 
ice the coffee was. I broke some off and made some coffee ; 
but it did not hardly taste like coffee at all, all the strength 
was out, as it had been in water for a short time. The milk 
I could not find. 

That evening I killed four partridges. The weather 
turned clear and cold and I was wet to the skin. It was 
late when I had to stop for the night, and did my best in 
trying to dry my things the best way I could, and hard to 
get wood for I had no axe. 

Saturday, 24//i, in the evening I came to the place where 
we had left the lard. I was very glad to find it. It was 
about three pounds of lard in a pail. I had some porcu- 
pine and a few partridges yet, as I would try and save 
some ahead for my way out, and the bones of the por- 
cupine I carried with me; for I didn't throw the bones 
away, as it will make good broth if I get out of grub and 
don't get more game. I also had the flour yet, because I 
was saving it when my porcupine was done, and the porcu- 
pine bones with little flour will last me for a while. In 
the evenings I would talk to myself like as if some one 
with me, and plan to start off again soon as daylight, 
and try and make so many miles, just to cheer myself. 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 277 

After I left Mr. Wallace, when coming along after I 
killed the porcupine and some partridges, at night, mj fire 
I would have it in a long style and just lie near the side 
of it, and whatever I had, some porcupine or partridge, 
in mj httle bundle, I would put it for my pillow for fear 
some animal might carry it away. My pistol I would keep 
it handy, and then talk to myself and say, " If some wolves 
should come along to-night they would make short work 
of me. But I guess I might just as well get killed by them 
as to starve; but any waj^ I will just make that first fellow 
jump a Httle with my pistol. My little pistol is only 22 
cal." 

Every evening I always read a chapter, and every morn- 
ing at just break of daylight; and when I got a little 
stronger, after getting some game, strong enough to raise 
my voice, I always sung a part of a hymn. In the evening 
I would read first then sing, 

" Lead kindly light, amid the encircling gloom 

Lead Thou me on. 
The night is dark, and I am far from home; 

Lead Thou me on. 
Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see 
The distant scene; one step enough for me." 

And in the morning after I read, I would sing, 

Come to me, Lord, when first I wake. 
As the faint lights of morning break; 
Bid purest thoughts within me rise. 
Like crystal dew-drops to the skies. 

Sunday, ^5thy was snowing again. In the evening I 
killed four more partridges. Snow very deep and made 



278 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

poor time, and high mountains to go over, but I thought 
I will get out to Grand Lake early in the morning. 

Monday, ^6th, I got out to Grand Lake about 10 o'clock 
and was very, very glad to get out again to the lake, but 
was very much disappointed in the afternoon. I came 
along the south shore of the lake and thinking I would 
make good time from there now to Northwest River, and 

1 would only follow the shore of the lake to Northwest 
River, and besides no mountains to go over. I went about 

2 miles and came to a river, which made me feel very bad 
about it, and I did not know how I could ever get across, 
and could not make a raft without an axe. I thought I 
would try any way to make a raft, if I could only get wood 
to make a raft with. I followed the river up. The banks 
were so high, and the swift current run so swift along the 
steep banks, and the river very deep. I could not drop a 
log in without it float right away, and also came to another 
branch. This river branches off in two. I tried all after- 
noon to cross at the main river so I would have only one 
river to cross ; but I could not there, as near the lake I will 
have two rivers to cross at the forks. 

I gave up and went down near the lake again. The ice 
was floating down the river. A rapid near the lake. I 
thought it might not be very deep. Then, seeing that I 
could not do any better, I thought I would wade out a 
piece and the rest I would swim to the other shore. 

I started out, and up to my waist before I got any dis- 
tance out, and the floating ice coming against me, and 
the cramps began to take on the legs, that I was obliged 
to turn and just got out to shore in time. 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 279 

I stood for some time thinking that I will never be able 
to cross, and that I would sure to starve there. It got dusk 
and I started a fire. I was very, very cold, and had some- 
thing to eat. I was troubled very much and could not for- 
get the river, and the ice floating and rubbing against the 
shore, made things worse, to hear that sound all night, and 
thinking if I only had a canoe, I could get to Northwest 
River to-morrow. It was yet 40 miles to the post North- 
west River. 

Tuesday, 9nth, as soon as daylight I tried to wade across 
again the same place ; but things happened the same. Along 
the lake lots of drift wood. I thought I better make a raft 
if I could. It was blowing very heavy from the west. I 
got my raft made. My tump line I made two pieces to tie 
the four corners of the raft, and my leather belt I made 
another piece, and a piece of small salmon twine I had at 
the other corner. I got a long pole so as to be sure and 
touch bottom with it all the way across, as I was afraid 
that the swift current would take me out into the lake and 
the heavy sea would swamp me. 

My raft was too small, and when I got on it I sunk 
down quite a bit. I shoved out and came to the strong 
current, and the tide and the ice overcame me, and took 
me out to the lake. When the current took me out into 
the lake, then the wind caught me and carried me. It got so 
deep I could not find bottom with my pole. I had a mind 
to jump from the raft; but I knew if I did I would surelj^ 
get drowned. So I thought I might just as well try to 
stay on. My raft was breaking up. Piece by piece would' 
float away. So I got down on my knees and tried to keep 



280 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

the pieces together, and the sea would just cover me. For 
about two hours I stayed on the raft, and sure it was my 
finish. Finally, after a while, the wind drove me just near 
a point. It was a long point, and I knew I could touch 
bottom with my pole. I took my pole and just hardly got 
ashore. (Grand Lake runs nearly east and west, is over 40 
miles long, and from 1 to 4 miles wide, and very deep, up 
to sixty fathom of water, and for the least wind makes a 
very heavy sea.) 

At this point where I got ashore, I was more than glad, 
but the other branch yet to cross. I came to the branch 
and followed it up quite a bit. This branch is much larger 
than the first. It was very hard to get wood to make a 
raft. No drift. I managed to shove some half rotten 
stumps down. It took me some time to get enough for my 
raft, and not a stitch dry about me, just wringing wet, 
and would not make a fire till I got across the other branch. 
I built my raft on newly frozen ice, just near the open 
stream, and then broke the ice around, and with a long 
pole worked my way across. This raft was much larger 
than the first, and out of the water where I stood. Oh ! but 
I was so proud of that raft, and talking to myself all the 
time, and telling myself what a fine raft it was, and I was 
so proud of my raft. I got across safe and without much 
trouble after all. 

It was nearly sunset. I thought I'd better make my fire 
and found I was nearly safe. I would dry up and make a 
good early start in the morning, and would nearly get to the 
post the next day. I picked out a place for the night, and 
shot three partridges right there. It was near a point 
where I was and round the point run a deep bay. I thought 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 281 

may be another river run out from there. And just to see 
if I could see any river I run to the point. When I got to 
the point, I seeing a small boat within 100 yards from me ; 
and, of course, to make sure, I run to see it, thinking it 
would come handy to me and I could sail to the post. 

Before I came near it, a child screamed out nearly 
opposite of me in the bush. I cannot tell how I felt. I 
just run the direction I heard the sound. The next, the 
roof of a house I saw. Then I came on a trail. I saw a 
girl with a child outside of the door. As soon as she saw 
me she run in and a woman came out. I sung out to her 
before I came to her. Meeting me she looked so scared. 
Then I shook hands with her, and told her where I came 
from. She took me in the house and told me to sit down. 
But I was — well I could not say how I was and how glad 
I was. 

After I had some tea and bread, I went for my little 
bundle and the partridges I shot. When I got back, a bed 
was fixed up for me and a shift of dry clothes. She did not 
know what to think of me when first seeing me, and also 
being all wet and nearly barefooted. She was the wife of 
Donald Blake. 

When I came there at Donald's I had six partridges, 
and a piece of porcupine and about half of the flour I 
started off with, and all the bones of the porcupine that 
I carried along with me. 

TOO LATE 

Very soon Donald Blake and his brother came home. I 
told him of our sad trip, and asked him if he could go up 
and take grub to ]\Ir. Hubbard and Wallace. 



282 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

" Whieh river did you follow this summer?" Donald 
asks me. 

" The Nascaupee River," I said, " and I came down by 
the same river again." 

" When did you come out to Grand Lake.? " he said. 

" Yesterday," I replied. 

" And how did you get across the lake.? " 

" I did not come across at all, but I followed the south 
shore all the way." 

Then he told me where the Nascaupee River was, and 
where it came out from to the Grand Lake within 4 miles 
northeast from here. I told him about which river we fol- 
lowed, the one at the head of the lake. He then tells me 
that we have taken the wrong river, and that the river we 
have followed was the Susan River. 

Then I asked him, " What river was this one I crossed 
with the raft.?" 

He says, " That river was Beaver Brook or Beaver 
River." 

Then I learnt that this Beaver River was the Big River 
where we left our canoe, and my thoughts were, " Oh ! 
that if we had followed the Big River, we would have all 
got out safe," and I could not forget about it, and felt 
so sorry about it. 

Donald got ready to start in the morning. He told me 
of two men 7 miles from here. I told him it would be better 
if we could get the other two men, as they would make 
better time and have lighter loads. So they started off the 
same night in their boat, and got the two men, Allan Goudy 
and Duncan M'Lean. 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 283 

Wednesday morning, October ^8th. — Donald and three 
more started off in their boat part of the way. They had 
their snowshoes also. Taking lots of grub and some spare 
sealskin boots and some other clothes, as I told them how 
the boys were rigged when I left them. I wanted to go 
with them too ; but they said they were going to travel at 
night too, and thought I would not be able to stand it out. 
I made a map for them and told them just where the tent 
was, 8.nd told them which side of the river to follow, and 
that the tent was just at the forks. I told them what I told 
Wallace before I left him, not to leave the river and to 
follow the north shore of the river all the time. So they 
said they would find the camp without any trouble. 

When Donald and the men had gone, Mrs. Blake was 
baking some biscuits just after breakfast. The hot bis- 
cuits looked so good. At last, I could not help myself, and 
had to ask her for som.e. She put some in a dish and gave 
me butter, molasses, and tea. So I ate and ate, and could 
not stop myself whatever, that at last I had to just force 
myself to go away where I could not see those little bis- 
cuits. 

But oh ! how I did suffer afterwards. I could not eat 
any thing more that day. It pained me ever so much in 
my breast. I would try and have a rest in bed, but could 
not, the pain was too much. Then I would go out and walk 
about outside ; but it was no use whatever, and come in and 
sit down. This I kept on all day but I wouldn't tell Mrs. 
Blake about it. I had no rest and suffered very much and 
was getting worse all the time. I thought of myself: Well 
I had nearly died of starvation, and after I did come out 



284 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

to where I could get some giTib to live on, and after all 
kill myself with it. What a mean trick. 

I did not know what to do with myself at last. Then 
I thought to try some hot water and started to vomit. It 
did me good. I felt much better after. I knew when I was 
eating those biscuits, that it wouldn't be good for me if 
I ate too much, but I couldn't help it. But it learnt me a 
good lesson. Afterwards I took good care not to eat too 
much. But for some time after, about three Aveeks, we 
suffered in our breast every time we ate, and so very, very 
hungry all the time for more to eat. We then suffered 
nearly as much as we did when we were first out of grub. 

Next day Mrs. Blake telling me, " Donald built this 
house this fall. It is a little over a week since we moved 
into our new house. And the other house you see over 
there is Mr. Bakie's house. He is not up 3'et. He is yet at 
the Northwest River post." 

So I thought, " If Donald hadn't come up here when 
I came past!!! — I guess I will just go into Mr. Bakie's 
house and see if I would have found any thing there." 

I went in his little store first, it wasn't locked, and found 
a few pounds of flour and some bits of pork in a keg, and 
about twenty pounds butter and also a good pair of seal- 
skin boots. 

So I said to myself, " Well, I guess I could find a load of 
grub here and take a load back to Mr. Hubbard and Wal- 
lace." 

But I thought about the river, and how would I get a 
load back across the river .^ Then I looked round if I could 
find an axe, and found two, one small and the other large. 

I took the big axe and said, " This one would come 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 285 

handy to use to make my raft with, and the httle one I 
would take along with me in the bush, and those sealskin 
boots I would wear." 

And also found three pair snowshoes. I also picked out 
the pair I would have taken and said, " This pair I would 
take." 

Then I went in his house and found two barrels of flour. 

So I said, " Well, after all I would have found more 
flour than I could carry to take up to the bo^'s," for I told 
them when I left, that if I found grub any place on the 
road, and no one there, I will just help mj'self and try and 
bring up a load. In that house I spent some time, think- 
ing and planning of what I would have done. 

Friday, October SOth. — I was sta^ung at Donald's, kill- 
ing quite a few partridges and making myself at home ; 
but yet not feeling very happy, as I did not get much rest 
at nights, thinking about Mr. Hubbard and anxious to 
hear from them soon. I had good hopes of Mr. Wallace, 
because the mouldy flour he had would yet keep him alive. 
And my troubles were : " Now I feel safe and in good 
hopes of getting home ; but should Mr. Hubbard and Wal- 
lace starve in there, the people may not believe me in what 
I say, and will think that I inin away from them, and 
haven't done fair whatever," and when I got home I would 
get in trouble, after I had done all I could for them as 
well as myself. 

When I would wake up at night it would just come into 
my mind. And more than that, Mr. Hubbard had been so 
good to me, and to remember what a friend he was, and 
what a brave man he was. Oh ! wasn't he a brave man. I 



286 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

have seen a good many fine people in my time ; but I never 
have seen a man Hke Hubbard^ and I never expect to see 
another. 

I was thinking too how things happened, about being 
on the wrong river, and what made us beheve we were on 
the right river, though at the same time thinking that it 
was too small to feed Grand Lake, but when it came out 
just at the head of the lake, as it shows in the map, made 
us think it was the Nascaupee. And besides how we proved 
as we were going up, as the people had told us at North- 
west River post, that after we got up the Nascaupee River, 
18 miles up, we would come to the Red Wine River, branch- 
ing off from the south side of the Nascaupee River, and 
also how that happened. When we got up, about 18 miles 
up, a little river branching off from the south into this 
river we thought was the Nascaupee, and of course, we 
called this little river the Red Wine River. And besides how 
we found the old portage trail, and also the steel trap, and 
how all these things kept on making us think for sure we 
were on the right route. And besides none knew, or ever 
thought, there was any other river. And I could not for- 
get about it, and was so sorry about it. Only one river. 

Saturday evenings October S\st. — Donald Blake and 
Allan Goudj returned from their trip, and sorry to hear 
the death of Mr. Hubbard. They suppose he died the first 
evening we left him, by telling of the signs, as he hasn't 
been out of the tent after the first snow. Three or four 
caribou has been coming right near the tent door, and 
going round the tent. 

Donald and Allan tells of ]Mr. Hubbard and how they 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 287 

had found him wrapped up in his blanket, Hke as he had 
been falhng asleep, and the tent door closed and all pinned 
up. I could tell then pretty well how he has being, and 
that he has being doing as he said he would, and has fallen 
asleep and has never woke. For I myself was nearly at 
my finish, and knew how I felt, and how weak and sleepy 
I used to feel, and often felt that I could just fall asleep 
and never wake up again. 

Donald and Allan brought all that was at the tent, Mr. 
Hubbard's camera and his rifle and his diary. And I was 
so very much surprised to see what he has written, and found 
a letter he has been writing for me to Mr. S. A. King, 
in case I should fail, and telling him how I had tried so 
hard to help him. I was so glad to see this letter, and 
remembered how he did speak of me this summer, and was 
so always pleased of my work. And further, to see here 
what he has written about me, even to his very last. 

Then I knew his letter would help if the people would 
not believe me in what I said. 

They fixed jMr. Hubbard's body the best way they could 
and returned to Mr. Wallace. Going up they found Mr. 
Wallace 1 mile above from where we got the flour from, 
where Wallace and I parted. They came on to his trail 
first. Then they followed him up. He has crossed the river 
on the ice to the south shore, just near where they came 
to him along the river, where some caribou had been going 
across. He had a little fire, but was unable to make a start 
or to travel any more. Allan Goudy says he right away 
gave Wallace some bread and butter, and after he ate that 
he did want some more : "But we would not give him 
more. We were afraid to give him too much, for fear he 



288 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

would eat too much. He then got a hold of some raw salt 
pork and was going to eat it raw, that we had just to 
take it from him." 

The two young lads, Duncan M'Lean and Gilbert 
Blake, stayed with Mr. Wallace, and Donald and 
Allan went right on to Mr. Hubbard. They saw Wallace's 
trail through the snow, and along where he went, and only 
less than a couple hundred yards from the tent, and had 
turned back and followed his own trail again, thinking he 
had gone past the camp. They found Mr. Wallace was 
frost-bitten on the point of his toe, the big toe on his left 
foot. He had yet a little of the flour when they found him. 
The two lads stays up with Mr. Wallace, so when he gets 
a little stronger they would come down to Grand Lake. 
They had a tent and stove, and lots of provisions. 

Sunday, November 1st. — I went with Allan over where 
he lives, 7 miles from Donald's, 4 miles by the lake, then 
up the Nascaupee River 3 miles. My first glimpse of the 
Nascaupee River. The Nascaupee River is a nice big river 
compared to the Susan and Beaver River, and much wider 
and deeper. When we came along here in the summer, we 
saw this bay where the Nascaupee River comes out from, 
from a distance; but we thought it was just only a bay, 
and high mountains all round, and we never thought a 
river came out from there. So we did not go in there at all. 
We saw also from a distance, where Beaver River run out 
from ; but we thought it was only an island. So we still 
just went on and followed the map. 

It was late in the evening when we got back to Donald's. 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 289 

Donald and Allan would start off again in the morning 
to meet the two lads and Wallace. 

Monday^ November ^nd. — Donald and Allan meeting 
Mr. Wallace, thej arrived at Donald's in the evening. Mr. 
Wallace then told me of his trip after I left him ; but he 
couldn't remember all, as he at last lost track of every 
thing. He was troubled with his eyes, being nearly smoke 
blind, and that he could not find the tent. He thought he 
had gone past the camp. He says he did not know where 
the tent was. He made Duncan a present of Mr. Hubbard's 
washing rod. 

Tuesday, November Srd. — We said good-bye to Don- 
ald's, and went with Allan and Duncan over to their place. 
We staid there couple of days while Allan getting his boat 
ready for us to use to Northwest River. The day after I 
went over there I asked Duncan M'Lean if he could go 
with me this winter when I go up to get Mr. Hubbard's 
body. He told me he would be willing to come along with 
me and help me all he could. I told him I would try to 
get one or two more at Northwest River post. 

Thursday, November 5th. — In the morning Wallace and 
I started off from Allan's house. When we got to the 
mouth of the river we could not go any farther. Snowing 
very hard and could not see any distance, and the wind 
against us. We stayed at the mouth of the river till in the 
evening. The wind shifted to the northwest, and we sailed 
across to Cape Blanc, just opposite the Nascaupee. We 
went to a little shack I knew. When we passed here in the 



290 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

summer we saw the shack just near the lake. This was 
the httle shack where I thought I might find some food or, 
perhaps, find some trappers when I was coming down the 
Susan; but it was just a httle shack or tilt for the trap- 
pers' use when travelling along Grand Lake, just big 
enough for two men to sleep in. Wallace and I were glad 
to get in, and a little stove in too, and nice and warm. 

In the morning, Nov. 6th, nice wind and fair for us, 
and got to Northwest River. The people w^ere so sorry 
to hear the sad news of Mr. Hubbard, especially those who 
have seen him. 

I also came across Mr. Bakie, who knew about Beaver 
River, and enquires if we came to where it branches and 
connects again, on the south side of a high half barren 
hill. 

I said, " Yes, that is just the place where we left our 
canoes and went over to Susan Brook." 

He tells me, " If you had come over that rapid where 
you left the canoe, you would go 6 miles and just come to 
another. Only about 50 yards you would carry your canoe, 
and from there smooth and deep water, no rapids, but 
swift current. Even if you didn't have the strength of pad- 
dling, the swift current would have brought you down, 
right down to my house. 

Mr. Bakie lives just near Donald Blake's at Grand 
Lake, just near the river — Beaver River. How sorry I 
was when we did not follow Beaver River. It would only 
take us two days to come from where we left the canoe to 
where Donald Blake or Mr. Bakie's house. Mr. Bakie has 
his trapping on Beaver River, and he knew all about it, 
and tells me that we had come over the worst part of the 
river. 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 291 



KEEPING A PROMISE AND SOMETHING MORE 

At the New Year I saw Duncan M'Lean again, and he 
said he would meet me on the 16th January at Donald's, 
to start from there up the bush to get Mr. Hubbard's 
body, and the things we left, if I can find them. He would 
be out from his trapping path then, and besides the rivers 
frozen up. All the people round there thought that I could 
not find anything whatever. 

I did not meet Duncan, and did not get started on my 
trip till 8th March. The men were willing to go with me 
and help me with what I had to do; but Mr. Wallace 
wanted the canoe out, and to make the canoe a present to 
Mr. M'Kenzie, which the boys didn't care to undertake, 
and afraid to try and make a start, because they thought 
if they went they would have to bring the canoe. And 
besides the snow being so deep, and had been snowing 
nearly every day for some time ago, and haven't had chance 
of settling down, and besides about 80 miles to where 
the camp was, and the canoe about 98 miles. We could 
not take dogs, because the country being so rough we 
could not use dogs whatever. So we have to get on by 
hauling every man his toboggan. 

Seeing that the boys were almost afraid to try, till 
at last I told them, " Never mind, but come along with 
me and I will tell you whether the canoe will be taken out 
or not. Because we are going up there especially for to 
bring out Mr. Hubbard's body, and some films if I can 
find them, and we will leave the canoe and not bother with 
it. So you can put the blame on me, as anyway we will 



292 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

liave more than three men can handle, and especially the 
country being so rough." 

They said they would come along with me and help me 
in what I had to do, as it is something that has to be 
done. And besides getting time for the mild, and the rivers 
burst, and the water runs on top of the ice, and afraid 
that we could do no travelling in Susan Brook, and the 
mountains so rough and steep we could not haul toboggans 
over them, and have to travel on the river. So we got 
started in the morning from Northwest River on our 
way up. 

March 8th, — Tom Blake and Duncan M'Lean and I 
started this morning to bring Mr. Hubbard's body out to 
Northwest River. We have two toboggans and one cat- 
meran. Taking little stove, and tent and enough pro- 
visions. Each has a good load, and the new snow makes 
heavy going. Got dogs at Tom Blake's. Douglas Blake 
going up the lake with us. We came 18 miles to-day. 

March 9th. — Still snowing heavy and stormy. So we 
had to lay up to-day, being too rough to travel on the 
lake, and the snow deep. 

March 10th. — Still snowing. Tom Blake got discour- 
aged, as he thinks it will be too hard to do any travelling 
in the bush, as it is heavy going even on the lake. He and 
Douglas went home this morning with the dogs to North- 
west River. The young lad Duncan stays with me. I found 
hard to think of what I have to do ; but Duncan promises 
me that he will be brave, and we will try and go on as 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 293 

soon as the weather settles, and the snow will pack and 
make better travelling. 

March llfJi and 12tJi. — Snowing and kind of mist. 
Could not go on again. 

Sunday, March ISth. — In the afternoon it cleared up 
and we started, Duncan and I, and being only two could 
not take all we had, and left some grub and our blankets. 
Just taking tent, stove, and enough grub. Our loads still 
heavy to drag, and travelled slow and good part of the 
night. At last Duncan broke his snowshoe, and had to 
stop. Duncan is a nice' boy and willing, and not particular 
when to start in the morning and when to quit. 

March 14ith. — This morning Duncan fixing up his 
snowshoes, and took part of the dsiy. In the afternoon we 
started. Hope to make a good early start in the morning 
as the snow is settling fast. 

March 15th. — This morning, as we were just starting 
off, saw Mr. Blake coming. He has changed his mind and 
came on again to follow us up. We were so glad to have 
him come as^ain. 



o* 



March 16th, — Stormy and cold. Last night very cold. 
We have to keep fire on all night, and especially when we 
have no blankets. Our toboggans being so rime}- to-da}^, 
and very often scraped the rime off so as it wouldn't draw 
so hard. 



294> THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

March l^th, — The weather changed and settled down, 
and made a good day's journey to-day. 

March ISth. — To-day I shot six partridges with the 
pistol. This evening I knew we were coming opposite where 
we left the cartridges in the summer. It was in July, when 
one day Mr. Hubbard thought he had too many cart- 
ridges, and we took and dug in the sand and left them 
and covered them up, about five hundred rifle and pistol 
cartridges. So I told Mr. Blake and Duncan about it, and 
left our loads there and crossed over to where I thought it 
would be. We hadn't marked the place, for any way we 
thought of never coming back that way again. We came 
to the place where I thought we had left them, and dug into 
the snow. The boys were not sure about it at all, and 
thinking that I would not find the cartridges. 

When we came to the sand they asked me, " Is this the 
place .f* " 

I said, « Yes." 

A chisel I had with me to cut the frozen sand with. We 
dug into the sand and just came on them. The boys were 
surprised and would have bet anything before we started 
that I wouldn't find anything whatever, as the snow in 
winter makes things look different. 

March 19th, — To-day made good time. Duncan snow 
blind. 

Sunday, March Wth. — Early before noon we came to 
the camp. The tent was all buried in the snow; but when 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 295 

we dug down were surprised to find it standing. We 
wrapped Mr. Hubbard in the things we brought along 
with us, and did the best we could. 

I blazed a tree near where the tent has been. This I 
wrote deeply: 

L. HUBBARD 

died here 18th October, 1903, and 
will be brought out by 

T. Blake, Duxcan M'Lean^ and G. Elson". 

Came on a little farther this evening. The boys yet 
do not hardly think I can find the rest of the things. Of 
course, I'm not sure myself; but I can try any way. We 
have our cache five different places, some 4 and 8 miles 
apart. 

March 9>lst. — The boys were surprised to-day. When 
we came to the first cache I told them that we left some 
things there; but they looked at me and told me, how 
could I tell and no marks to go by. But they wouldn't 
refuse. We dug down to the ground, 8 feet, and just came 
on our little bundle we had left. The next was the same, 
and the next, till we got everything we had thrown away, 
only one bag yet with lots of films in. I remembered that 
I had hung it up by a little strap, on a little stump in 
some swamp, and the trees scattered. I thought I really 
could not guess at that place, and told the boys ; but we 
went on any way, till I thought we came to the place. No 
tree near, only just a plain. At last we dug down a piece 



296 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

an}^ way. When we got down a piece we started to feel 
around with our feet, and just came on the stump, and the 
bag still on. 

Mr. Blake says, " I have been trapping now ever since 
I could, when only a boy, and I think I know a little about 
travelling in the bush now ; but I could never find anything 
like you, and did not miss one place, but came right on it 
every time. I would never believe any one could do that 
if I did not see it myself. 

Duncan said the same, and besides nothing to go by. 

March ^2nd. — Started back from the camp for Grand 
Lake. Each man has a big load, for we have picked up lots. 
Duncan very bad with snow blind. 

March ^Srd. — Snowing heavy, and rime on our to- 
boggans makes heavy travelling. Some places the river bad 
to travel, on account of rapids where it isn't froze. We 
have some times just a narrow bridge of ice to go on, as 
no other way we could go, for the rough steep mountains 
on each side. 

March ^4tth. — Drifting and snowing very hard. Only 
travelled part of the day. Got to Allan Goudy's house. 

March 9.5th, — Snowing heavy. Got to Cape Corbeau. 
All very tired. 

March 96th. — Stormy to-day and snowing very hard, 
and our toboggans so heavy we could not get on at all, 
and had to leave our loads and walk empty to the post. 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 297 

Late when we got here at Mr. Blake's house at the rapids, 
3 miles from the post. Will get dog teams in the morning 
and go back for our loads. 

March ^8th. — Duncan M'Lean and I took dog team up 
Grand Lake this morning and got here again this even- 
ing with Mr. Hubbard's body and the things we left be- 
hind in the fall. We dressed him the best we could and 
laid him in the coffin the men at Kenemish had made for 
him, till we are ready to start on around the coast. 

When I was up in the bush, Mr. Wallace has a letter 
from Dr. Cluny Macpherson. As soon as he heard the 
sad news of Mr. Hubbard, he has started from Battle Har- 
bor to come to Northwest River with his dog team to 
help us. When he got to Rigolette, Mr. Eraser has just 
been at Northwest River post, and told him we hadn't yet 
the body of Mr. Hubbard out from the bush, and besides 
when he left Battle Harbor his little child was sick, and a 
team of dogs brought him news that his child was 
getting worse. So then he had to turn back from Rigolette, 
and sent a letter to Mr. Wallace to guide us on our way 
from Rigolette to Battle Harbor, from the time we may 
leave Rigolette all along, giving full account where we 
could get men and teams, and when we got at a place what 
man to ask for, and gave all the names of the places, and 
the names of the people we are to enquire for, and the best 
places to stay at nights, and besides tells of a steamer to 
come to Battle Harbor about the first of May. 

It was hard to get dogs and we were long getting started. 
In February I was up at Muddy Lake. Wednesday, Feb. 
24iih, I went from Muddy Lake to Goose Bay at John 



298 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Groves. He asked me if we got dogs to help us around the 
coast and to take Mr. Hubbard's body. I said that we did 
not yet find teams that could take us around or e^n as 
far as Rigolette. 

Thursday, February 25th. — I got to Northwest River. 

Sunday, February 28th. — Mr. Wallace and Mr. Bently 
arrived from Kenemish. Then I told ^Ir. Wallace what John 
Groves had told me, that he could help us with his team 
as far as Rigolette any way, and that he had a good team 
of dogs. 

Friday, April 8th. — Lots of teams from Muddy Lake. 
Edward Michline also arrived. He has been at Goose Bay 
a few days ago, and tells me that his brother-in-law John 
Groves said, that if Mr. Wallace would ask him to help him 
along, he could go as far as Rigolette with his team of 
dogs, as at the time he did not have very much to do and 
he could have time to go to Rigolette and back before he 
had any particular work to do for himself. Then I told 
Mr. Wallace about it, what John Groves has said. He said 
that he would write a letter to him and ask him about it. 

But Mr. Wallace and Mr. M'Kenzie still thinking of 
getting the canoe out, and wanted me to go up the Grand 
Lake and up by Beaver Brook, to get the canoe out to 
Northwest River. 

I was not careful of undertaking the trip. My reasons 
why — I knew how long it would take me to go up and 
back again to Northwest River. It would take me nearly 
two weeks. I thought it would be pretty late when we could 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 299 

make a start on our trip to Battle Harbor, and would 
miss the boat that Dr. Macpherson told us would be in 
Battle Harbor about the 1st of May. Also I was sure that 
the canoe would be crushed to pieces with the weight of the 
snow, as we left it in a place where it had a good chance 
of being crushed to the ground. If we had put it in some 
shelter where it would be all right, or if we had put it on 
a stage to keep in good shape ; but when we had just taken 
it out of the river, and just left it along the open, I knew 
it could not be safe. I thought it was a piece of nonsense 
to try and get it out, and would be only a trip for noth- 
ing. Even then I would be willing to go if it hadn't been 
so late. Also I thought it was hardly fair to try and force 
me to go any way, because I knew that I wasn't under 
either of them. I was hired by Mr. Hubbard on the trip 
and we had to do all the planning. It was Mr. Hubbard's 
expedition, and we had to obey him and try to help him in 
all we could while we were yet together. Also Mr. Hubbard 
had done and has always left things in my care to which I 
thought it would be better for us to do, and has gone by my 
plans a good deal, though he was the head of the party. 
Also what was belonging to Mr. Hubbard, knowing that I 
had just as much rights with some of his things as any one 
had, and in fact that I had already done that would be re- 
quired, and had gotten out everything that I thought was 
necessary to be gotten out from the bush. How^ever at last I 
said that I would go if I got a dog team. So I got ready 
to start to go for the canoe. 

Wallace told me, " You see, if when you went up, if 
you had dug up the canoe out of the snow and put it up 
on a stage, you wouldn't have to go up again." 



SOO THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

I said, " I do not have to go up again. It is not long 
since I had my trip up there. I think I have done my 
part." 

I was to start Tuesday, April 12th. 

Monday^ April l\th. — Mr. Wallace wrote a letter and 
wrote to John Groves telling him to be at Northwest River 
at such a day, about the time we would be out with the 
canoe from Grand Lake and Beaver River. Sent his let- 
ter up by Carl Hope. 

Tuesday, April l^th. — A pile snowing and we could 
not go. Mark Blake and I were to start this morning but 
too stormy. 

Wednesday J April ISth. — Still very stormy and lots 
of new snow has been falling, and could not make a start 
again. I told Wallace and M'Kenzie that if I could not 
go off again the next morning I would give up the trip 
and not go at all, as it was getting too late. 

Thursday, April 14ith. — Still stormy and snowing very 
hard, so that we could not go again, and gave up the 
trip. 

Monday, April 18th. — Henry and his brother Dan 
Groves arrived. I told Mr. Wallace about them and that 
he could send word by them to tell their brother John 
Groves to come right away and help up to Rigolette. 

Tuesday, April 19th. — John Groves arrived and said 
that he could not come along with us, as he had now lots 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 301 

of work that he wanted to do for himself, and besides his 
dogs were all cut by crust about the feet. 

April 20th. — Getting ready for starting off in the 
morning. Getting help from M. Duclos, the French Com- 
pany agent here. Sending his man Bellileur to help me on 
to Risolette with his doo; team. 



Thursday, April 21st. — Bellfleur and I started this 
morning from Northwest River with Mr. Hubbard's body. 
Starting a day ahead of Mr. M'Kenzie, as we have a heavy 
load and the going heav}^ Will take three days to Rigo- 
lette. Mr. M'Kenzie will bring Wallace along with him 
and Fred Blake his teamster. They will overtake us on 
the way, as they have good dogs and no load only just 
themselves. Got to Lowlands at 10 o'clock to-night. Bad 
footing for our dogs, and had to lead them and break down 
the snow. We came 40 miles to-day and our dogs at last 
played out. Bob Bakie lives here and does his trapping 
around here. He tells us he killed a caribou to-day, a big 
stag. 

April 22nd. — This morning gave our dogs a little rest, 
and did not start from Mr. Bakie's till noon. Our dogs 
are so poor that most of them are chaffed with the harness, 
and a mixed team, some water dogs, some Esquimaux dogs. 
The water dogs do not stand the hard work near so well 
as the huskies, and get played sooner. Before we started 
to-day one of the men killed four caribou there. Came here 
this evening at Bell Shepherd's. 



302 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Saturday evenings April 23rd, — Got to Rigolette. Mr. 
M'Kenzie caught up to us just a few miles before getting 
to Rigolette, and we got there together. Mr. Fraser, the 
agent at Rigolette, has some time ago been telling Jerry 
Flowers and his brother that we would be along at Rigo- 
lette, and asked them if they would help us along to Cart- 
wright, and that he would let them know when we came 
to Rigolette. 

Sunday, April 24itJi. — Mr. Fraser sent off two men to 
go and tell Jerry and his brother that we are at Rigo- 
lette. 

Monday, April 25th. — Early this morning Jerry and 
brother came with team of dogs each, but they wouldn't 
go less than thirty dollars each for two days' run. Mr. 
Fraser told them they were charging too much and wouldn't 
have them, but got some other men for us. Left Rigolette 
in the afternoon. Crossed over river in a boat. Came to 
William Mugford's, 3 miles from Rigolette. 

Tuesday, April 26th. — Snowing. Started at 6 a.m. 
Wind in our faces before noon and the new snow made 
heavy going. I have Mr. Hubbard's body on my sledge, 
and also some dunnage, and have four dogs. George Pottle 
my teamster. Wallace has George Williams for his team- 
ster and six dogs. After noon the wind shifted to the 
northwest and the wind blew the snow off the crust, and 
fine going. A few ridges of hills we came over but not 
bad. Came 40 miles to-day. Came to Sam Pottle's house at 
West Bay at 6.30 p.m. 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 303 

Wednesday, April ^Tith. — Started from West Bay 7 
A.M. Got to Caii;wright 4.30 p.m., 46 miles. Sam Pottle 
and George Williams our teamsters. Drifting and cold all 
day. 

Thursday, April ^8tJi. — Staying here at the post. Mr. 
Swaffield, agent here of the Hudson's Bay post, getting 
us another team. Only enough dogs for one team here. 
Mr. Swaffield has sent for Charles Davies to be ready for 
starting off in the morning. 

Friday, April 29th. — This morning Mr. Davies took sick 
and was very bad. So Mr. Swaffield had to get us another 
man in his place, Walter Bird. Started 7 a.m. Got to 
Sandy Hill 2.30 p.m., and got so soft we could not travel, 
especially through the portages. Travelling mostly on ice. 
Came 30 miles. 

Saturday, April SOth. — This morning we started from 
Sandy Hill 4 a.m., and got to Spotted Islands 8.30 a.m., 
25 miles. Our teamsters don't know the route any farther. 
Mick Dison and Bill Dison our teamsters from Spotted Is- 
lands. Starting off in the afternoon 2.30 p.m., got to Seal 
Island 6 P.M., 20 miles. 

Sunday, May 1st. — Very stormy and can't see any 
distance. Can't make a start to-day. Staying in George 
Morris house. 

Monday, May 2nd. — Still stormy. We started from 
Seal Island, 11 a.m. after it cleared up a bit, and got to 



304 THROUGH UNKNOWN LABRADOR 

Coopers Bite, or New York, 7 p.m., 35 miles. Nobody liv- 
ing there. We came to some shacks. No stoves in any of 
them and all the doors off. We gathered some of the old 
broken stoves and made kind of a fireplace in the middle 
of the house, and built a fire. We cut a hole in the roof 
to let the smoke out. 

Tuesday, May Srd. — Started off this morning 4 a.m. 
It was yet dark. Got to Williams Harbor 9 a.m., 30 miles. 
Came to Mr. John RussePs house. Mr. Russel and his 
brother James Russel has been just starting off into the 
bay, and will not be home till evening. Mick and Bill 
Dison do not know the route any farther. — The Russels 
home this evening, and will take us to Fox Harbor in the 
morning. 

Wednesday, May ^th. — Started off from Williams Har- 
bor early this morning 6 a.m., and came to Mr. George 
Wakeham's at Fox Harbor about 10 a.m., 25 miles. Can- 
not get across the bay and the people tell us that we can- 
not go round by dog team, on account of a river near 
Cape Charles. So we have to wait here till the ice moves 
out. Only 6 miles from Battle Harbor. We stay here at 
Mr. Wakeham's. The people all along on our trip has 
been good to us as they could. We had only to go by Dr. 
Macpherson's letter, and at every place they were always 
ready to help us, because when the Dr. has passed he told 
them about us coming along the coast, and they were al- 
ways looking out for us. The people all along the coast 
has heard of my finding the things on my trip in the 
bush. One would tell the other, " This is the man we heard 



NARRATIVE BY GEORGE ELSON 305 

of, when he found everything he dug for in the snow this 
winter." 

Thursday, May 12th. — About noon a little boat came 
from Battle Harbor to Fox Harbor. The Dr. had heard 
that we were at Fox Harbor, and right away sent a little 
boat with five men to help us, and telling us about a steamer 
at Cape Charles. She will be starting for Newfoundland 
may be in the morning. Wallace and I were more than 
glad, and started right away from Fox Harbor. We were 
there eight days at Fox Harbor. We came through the 
floating ice and went round to Cape Charles. Went aboard 
the steamer and found out that the Captain was at Battle 
Harbor. So we came round and got to Battle Harbor late 
in the evening. 

Friday, May ISth. — Dr. Macpherson had Mr. Hub- 
bard's body enclosed in a lead coffin. In the afternoon we 
went aboard the steamer Aurora, Capt. Kean, that had 
gone to Cape Charles with a load of machinery for the 
new whale factory. 

Saturday, May 14<th. — In the evening, 7.30 p.m., and 
starting from Cape Charles for St. John's, Newfound- 
land. 

Tuesday, May Ylth, — Arrived at St. John's, Newfound- 
land. 

Friday, May 27th. — Arrived at New York City. 

Saturday, May 28th. — Mr. Hubbard's body was buried 
to-day in Mounte Repose, in Haverstrawe. 

THE END 



SEF 23 >y08 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




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